The Winged Serpents
by eowowiel
Summary: “We’re 17-year-old ex-prostitutes from the future who have 15-year-old counterparts in another part of the country and have weird magical abilities that make us the figures of some prophetic poem. Aren’t you just sick of that cliché?” - Raven
1. To the Letter

Disclaimer: Only Dove and Raven belong to me (so far), everyone else is a fantastic figment of Rowling's imagination.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter One: To the Letter

***

The two girls sat idly in front of a glowing blue fire. Until this point, they had never really been of much interest to anyone. They were just two Slytherin girls.  At least, that's what everyone thought. They were fairly secretive for girls. The letter had arrived only an hour before, and the note from Headmaster Dumbledore had immediately followed.

They had flown to Hogwarts straightaway, stopping only momentarily for food at Hogsmeade. Now, they had only to straighten themselves out before meeting him in his office. It had been only a month or so since they'd last seen him, but these were different circumstances. Their last visit had been spent trying to convince him that they could keep their past a secret. Now they were afraid he might try to convince them not to.

"What if he thinks we've done something wrong? What if we _have_ done something wrong? What are we going to do?! He won't expel us, will he?" blurted the dark-haired girl. Her hair was black and fell past her waist in curly tendrils. She tended to think in shades as deep as her hair, and her sense of style was obviously affected by it. A thick black cloak hid long velvety robes which fit where they should. Beneath the robes, if you looked for them, you could just see the tips of her faded old high-top Converse. Black, of course.

"Come now, Raven. He won't send us away. We haven't done anything wrong, I'm sure of it. Nothing that compares to the things he already knows about anyway. And he didn't condemn us for our actions then, why start now?" came the light-haired girl's reply. This girl was identical to the first, yet entirely different. Their faces and bodies, even their thoughts, were exactly alike. But where Raven had black hair and eyes, dark robes and a grim outlook, Dove was just the opposite. With long white hair and eyes so light they were almost silver, it was a remarkable difference. She wore a white cloak over silvery blue robes, and if you looked at her feet, you could see her own faded pair of Converse. Naturally, they were white, and had been charmed so as not to stain.

"Dove, how can you be so damn positive? You just accept everything the way it's thrown at you, assuming there's a reason for everything. Why don't you fight back sometimes, huh? You make me do all the work."

"I do not make you do any work. You choose to do it. I am perfectly happy with how life conducts itself, even if I don't always agree with the methods. I can't help that. You, on the other hand, seem always to go kicking and screaming. Lighten up a bit."

"Lighten up a bit?" A very unlady-like snort followed. "This from the girl who bought an entire case of chocolate frogs when we stopped at Hogsmeade."

"I'm saving them!" Dove cried with an indignant smile. "It's not like I ate them all. I never would have made the flight up here. I'd be dipping and diving every which way if I had a that much candy in my stomach."

They both sobered quickly and returned to the subject at hand. "Dove? You're sure he isn't angry with us?" Raven said quietly.

"Of course not, heart. Look, he has been kind to us for the past couple of years when everyone else forgot us. And now he's been kind enough to let us return. It was practically his idea to let us use the Time-Turner, wasn't it? He gave us a place to stay when we were too scared to stay with Her. He let us hide before, and now that it's time to seek, I'm sure he'll be just as accommodating."

The two girls sighed at each other and leaned back in their chairs. The blue flame flickered on their faces. Finally, a tug at the backs of their minds. They both stood up and readied themselves. After straightening their cloaks, flattening their hair, and hiding their muggle shoes beneath their robes, they gathered their thoughts and opened the door.

***

"Ah, girls. Yes, do come in. May I offer you some tea? Or perhaps some chocolate?"

The two girls gazed into Albus Dumbledore's sparkling eyes. "No, thank you. No chocolate." they giggled. "Although, tea would be lovely."

"Miss Thomas, Miss Thomas." Giving a slight nod to each. "I trust you are both well-rested from your flight?" He leaned forward, offering rather generous cups of tea, and winked at the two girls. His eyes glittered with the light of some secret knowledge.

Dove smiled kindly and nodded. She absently brushed away a strand of white hair. _See?_ she thought to Raven. _I told you. He isn't going to expel us._ She glanced over at Raven to see her scowl slightly. Then she heard her counterpart's soft voice gently reply. _Perhaps he's softening us up first. Doesn't want us to go bonkers when he breaks the news. Perhaps he's heard about me, after all._ And she sent a sly smile back at Dove.

Returning their thoughts back to the kindly old man before them, the rest of the conversation was carried on out loud, and with the Headmaster very much a part of it. Stories were retold, pasts re-explained, and a general knowledge of the two girls' existence up to such a point was handed to Dumbledore once more. After this heavy discussion, the three remained quiet, drinking tea, and wondering what each would think of the others, and wondering who would be first to breach the quiet. As it turned out, Dumbledore spoke first.

"Well, girls." he began. "That certainly was an interesting story." _Oh great_, thought Raven. _Here it comes_. To which Dove softly thought back, _Quiet, dear. Surely not. Just listen_. "I must admit, I had thought you already knew of these...details. But it's just as well you have only now learned of them. Your mother's recent death is unfortunate, or will be when it occurs, and you both have my deepest sympathies." Both girls gave a hollow laugh at the back of their minds. Well, Dove anyway. Raven made no effort to hide her misplaced amusement and snorted aloud. "However, as it has not technically happened yet, it must not be made known to anyone else. Now, I trust you will be prepared to resume studies next week at start of term?" Both girls nodded slightly.

"Good. But as for this," picking up the letter they'd brought with them, "I remind you to keep this to yourselves. It will not do to have students milling about with unnecessary worries and assumptions floating about in their heads." The girls nodded immediately and beamed at their new Headmaster.

"Sir?" Dove ventured, "May I ask if you have any knowledge as to our purpose? I mean, why did we just find out? Couldn't we have been doing something before now? And what about these past two years, did we mess something up? Or is it all just some kind of strange loophole that we can't heal ourselves." She shrugged, suddenly aware that she was bombarding the poor Headmaster, and continued. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid that this is all very confusing for us. We did have our suspicions about each other. But after these past couple of years we've been gone...we just didn't know for sure until now. It's kind of...daunting, I guess." Raven gave a snide grin at her sister and they both awaited an answer.

"I am sorry to say that I do not know the precise details. I have a few guesses, but nothing definite. And I do not think it would be wise to fill your heads with ideas that may only bring more confusion. It is best if you learn as you go. Do not try to outsmart the Fates, girls, for they will see you humbled."

"Of course, Headmaster." Dove replied, while Raven merely inclined her head momentarily.

"I will, of course, be informing your Head of House of this...interesting development," said the Headmaster. The girls started abruptly. Visions of their rather unflattering past danced about before them and they both reeled at the thought of Professor Snape knowing such private things. They both had very high esteem for their Head of House and did not wish to see his mutual respect for them diminished in any way. But the Headmaster smiled again and spoke kindly. "Don't worry, I will only tell him that which must be known. If you wish your past to remain a secret, I see no reason to disagree."

Dove threw a few frantic thoughts in Raven's direction and Raven muttered back. They both looked at each other and estimated the possibilities. Finally, Raven spoke. "No, Headmaster. It's alright. He should know what we've done. We do not know what may be asked of us in the near future and it would be imprudent to assume our past may not factor in somehow. It may be best he know. However, we leave it to your discretion."

Dumbledore looked at the two girls thoughtfully. He admired their courage to bare their souls so effortlessly. It was only natural that they be wary of the choices they'd made, but he knew their reasons and understood them, even if he disliked the outcome. He wondered if they would be prepared for what was to come, however. But he said nothing to them. He only smiled and reached for a box at the end of his desk. Inside were four glass objects. A gold lion, a black badger, a blue raven, and a green serpent lay upon a fold of black satin. The Headmaster softly touched the head of the serpent, then closed the box and returned it to its place at the end of his desk. Dove and Raven looked on curiously, but did not speak.

A few minutes later, a soft rap on the door. Following the knock, a tall man in dark robes entered the room. Both girls turned to look...and started once more at the sight. _That was quick. The glass charms must be Summoners, I've never really seen one before. He won't tell him while we're here, will he? I don't mind the Professor knowing, but I don't think I want to be here when he finds out. I don't think I can handle his reaction,_ they both thought frantically. But they wiped their faces clean of any emotion before he had time to notice. He had rather long, black, lanky hair, shiny, almost greasy. His skin looked as if he hadn't seen sunlight in months. But his eyes had always mesmerized them both. They seemed to go on forever...

"Girls, you may leave. I am sure you still have a few things to pick up for school. And I know you have a great many things to sort through before next week."  With such an easy escape at hand, the girls had no choice but to nod gratefully. Professor Snape waited patiently as the girls gathered themselves and left.

Dumbledore turned to him and motioned for him to sit. Waiting only for the soft click of the door, he began to speak.

***


	2. Train of Thought

Disclaimer: Uhm...lesse, Dove and Raven are mine, but nobody else. I'm not getting any money (although I wouldn't mind) and...aw, that's all.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Two: Train of Thought

***

"I can't believe this, Dove. I still can't believe it. I mean, I always figured one of us might...but I guess it makes sense. Maybe I just didn't want to believe that we could both...But how are we going to do it?! And what are we doing? I don't even know! Oh, this is insane." Raven nearly exploded with flustered enthusiasm, something that rarely happened with her. She fell onto her bed and crammed the palm of her hand into her eye, trying to force the confusion out. "Oh man! This is so...Hey! You with the white hair. I'm talking to you, thankyouverymuch. What's with you?" And she stalked over to the bed sister was occupying, her stormy expression firmly in place.

_I'm just tired. I guess I'm still just a little weirded out from the letter and all. I mean, it's a letter from Daddy. How is that possible? He's been dead for years. And if it's all true, which I have to assume it is, then why didn't he tell us himself back then?_

_Maybe he didn't know, Dovegirl. Maybe he didn't know until it was too late to tell us. Or maybe he was right to make us wait, I don't know. Do you think we could have handled hearing this at age seven? We can't even handle it now. And technically, we're legal adults. Pretty pathetic, I'd say. We have to think all this through._

_You're right, I know. It's just...this is going to be so much responsibility._

_Yeah, and we hate responsibility._ Raven snickered lazily. _But it's about time that we put our minds to something other than mindless pranks._

_Our minds?! You're the one who's always gallivanting about with those Weasleys. I'm sure I don't even know half of what you three get up to._

_Oh, come on, Dove. That isn't even possible. You know everything I get up to with them._

_Yes, yes, yes. I was just saying_. A short pause before she continued_. Raven? Are you glad She's dead?_

_Absolutely. Aren't you?_

_I'm not sure. I mean, we've both wished for it for so long. But now that it's happened...it really doesn't do us much good, does it?_

_Well, if I remember correctly, She'd gotten us just after summer hols started before our fifth year, didn't she? That's only a couple months ago now. We could go rescue ourselves perhaps. Disguise ourselves and just drag ourselves out of there. Never look back._

_You know we can't do that. It would mess up our entire future. We might not even be here as a result of it and then we wouldn't be able to rescue ourselves and we'd be right back where we started. It's all very confusing. But it doesn't matter anyway as we've already promised Dumbledore we wouldn't. You know we can't._

_Yeah, I guess we do. But I feel sort of bad. I can remember how I felt back then. I just wanted to die half the time. I would have given anything to just be rescued from it all. And here I am, perfectly capable, and yet entirely incapable. It just sucks._

_I know. But there's no point dwelling on it. Go to sleep then. We've got a lot to do tomorrow._

_Alright. Goodnight, heart._

_Goodnight, heart._

***

"Read it to me again?" Raven asked. She was unconsciously running a brush through her hair. Or trying, as it kept getting stuck in her curls. Within a few minutes, she would no doubt give up on it and turn to her sister for help. Dove would shrug carelessly and point at her own untamed mess of white curls. This is how it usually went.

"Alright. But I don't see how it'll help."

"I don't expect it to help. I just like hearing it. It's nice to think we may have some sort of purpose after all."

Dove glanced at her sister and wondered if perhaps the past couple of years hadn't harmed her more than she let on. But she shrugged it off and smiled at her instead. Picking up the scrap of parchment on the table next to her, she unrolled it and read the words that had already practically ingrained themselves in her mind.

_The Winged Serpents shall return_

_Their feathers bent and scarred_

_Shall carry them to seek and learn_

_And soften hearts long hard_

_Beware the Two of Light and Dark_

_They will not mercy show_

_But find the wound and heal the mark_

_For either Friend or Foe_

_The one shall feel the nightly urge_

_The other feel the sun_

_But when the moon and star converge_

_The Two shall –_

But the parchment cut off there. It was torn across at the bottom. Dove still wondered if it had been an accident, or if they were being shielded from something. Either way, it didn't matter, there was no way for them to know.

They had spent the morning trying to finish the rhyme, but the third verse just didn't want to make sense. Not that the rest of it did, but a few things tied in well. The _Winged Serpents_ line was easy to understand now. They were of Slytherin House, thus the Serpent half, and their one special...ability... with Transfiguration brought in the other half of it.

_Their feathers bent and scarred_ was assumed to be figurative, at least they hoped it was. Their past was not pretty, and although they had been patched back together well, the mental wounds remained. _The Two of Light and Dark_ was also easy to figure out. They both had personalities to match their appearances, one black and one white. They weren't entirely opposites, but the similarities were few. If they didn't practically share one mind, they'd probably be at each other's throats twenty-four/seven.

The mercy part had Dove confused. She prided herself on her compassion and mercy towards others. But this said that she would show none. Or did it? Raven had pointed out that it might connect to the next line, meaning they would heal without mercy. But heal without mercy? Wasn't that a contradiction in terms? Unless someone didn't want to heal...and who would wish themselves in pain? Dove's mind spun with the slight paradox, and Raven's eyes glazed over for a moment.

"Would you let go of it for a moment? Stop trying to understand it and break it down. Just listen to the words. It's almost soothing. Besides," Raven tossed her head at Dove, her moment of gentility gone, "you're making me dizzy."

"Sorry." Dove turned away from Raven and set the parchment back down on the table. It immediately rolled back up into itself. She tried to keep her thoughts on other things, like Hogwarts. School would be starting back up soon. While it had been two years since they'd actually been to Hogwarts, for everyone else it would be as if only one summer had passed. They had to try to act normal. If anyone suspected what was happening, they would be in grave danger. Not to mention all the confusion it might start with other students. People might start asking questions, and while they didn't mind answering them anymore, it wasn't something they were fond of bringing up.

Slowly, however, Hogwarts slipped out of mind's reach and went back to the last lines of parchment. _But when the moon and star converge/The Two shall_... What? The two shall what? What _shall_ we do? Dove grew more agitated, her anger welling up inside of her, so it came as no surprise when Raven yelped in fury. She picked up a glass from the table and threw it across the room. Then she looked back at Dove and calmly asked if she felt any better.

"Yes, much. Thank you." Dove smiled weakly and sat down on her bed. Raven eyed her curiously. It wasn't often that their minds differed, but when it happened, it was usually strong. There was never slight a disagreement between the two. They were either of one mind (literally), or they were of entirely opposing viewpoints. Raven rather liked the change, and reveled in the arguments and debates that such a change brought, but it still flustered her. Nevertheless, she let it go. Dove obviously had something on her mind which she wished to work out alone, and she would leave her to it now.

"Look," Raven started, "I'm going to head out to Diagon Alley. See if I can't pick up the rest of our books. Alright? You can stay here and do your own thing. Whatever it is you want to do with that paper, go ahead and do. But when I get back, I want that to be the end of it. Alright?" She glared at Dove expectantly.

Her sister looked up and smiled, full-strong now. "Yes, thank you."

Raven nodded and stood up. She plucked her cloak off a nail by the door and threw it around her shoulders. Beneath it, her dark red robes flowed and swirled, deep and almost troubled. Pulling at the clasp by her collarbone, she dropped her wand into the pocket closest to her left wrist. She fingered it gently with her right hand, feeling the smooth mahogany wood under the pad on her thumb. Her mind went swiftly to and from the old Pegasus which had given it's feathers for the identical wands she and her sister owned. Swirls of soft silver had been carved and molded into the length of it, only about seven inches. Some strange ancient runes, which they had not yet been able to decipher, scrolled around the base of it. The wands were perfect for Transfiguration, but practically useless when it came to any Divination Charms or Soothing Spells.

Thinking back to the times she and Dove had harassed their poor Divination professor (_Trelawney,_ she remembered suddenly), she smiled quickly and walked out the door. Perhaps she'd stop for some Tricky Tarot cards on they way back. If they could sneak them into Trelawney's classroom, well...perhaps that would keep Dove's mind off of things. She grinned again with hopeful excitement and a dark gleam in her eye, then set off towards the Leaky Cauldron.

***


	3. The Relative Past

Disclaimer: Dove and Raven are mine (still) but nooooobody else. I made up Vessum Hill and the teensy incantation. Otherwise, nothing big here.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Three: The Relative Past

***

Dove curled up on her bed. She had been waiting for nearly a half an hour now in the tiny apartment that she and Raven shared. She wanted to be sure Raven was gone before she started. She glanced around the room. It was practically empty. There was a fireplace on the far left wall and a small rug in front of it. Along the back wall was Raven's bed, a small table underneath the only window with some parchment and an Inkless Quill on top of it, and then her own bed. Against the far right wall were two medium-sized oak wardrobes, each only about half-full. And on the wall across from her was...nothing. Just the door to the outside world, overlooking Vessum Hill, a small town only a few miles away from Diagon Alley. There were a few Muggles about, but not many. Vessum Hill, while not Unplottable, was certainly hard to find.

Dove and Raven had chosen to live here as it had been a favorite spot for their father to take them as children. There was a little park just down the road where the swings pushed themselves if you said the right words. Besides that, the rent was low, and the neighbors made no effort to acquaint themselves with one another. The last thing Dove needed was Raven hexing a little old witch over a cup of borrowed Sinleaf.

_Raven, right. She's probably there by now_. Dove straightened up, remembering her task. She unrolled the parchment they'd received the day before. It looked as if it had been sitting in a drawer for a few years, and the bottom was torn across, but it was otherwise entirely ordinary. Or it seemed that way. Dove just wanted to be sure that all was as it seemed. While Raven was away in Diagon Alley, she had been given permission from her sister to tamper with the scrap as she wished. Pointing her wand at the scrap, she whispered _Prior Scriptoris_ and watched the words on the parchment jumble about. Most of the letters moved to the edges of the parchment, but a few stayed framed within near the center and rearranged themselves to form the name Russell Thomas.

Dove gasped to see the name. Having been re-written with the letters it seemed he _had_, in fact, written, the name came out looking almost as his signature. Her father's signature. Tears welled up behind her eyes, but she did not allow them to fall. She whispered a few more words and watched the parchment blink and light up, curl around the edges and rewrite itself. There seemed to be no form of deception behind the note. So he had written it, and with good intentions. _But why did it take so long to reach us? Why was there no accompanying letter of explanation?_ She tried a few more spells and charms on the small scrap before giving up. Raven would be back soon. But she resolved to find out more by any means necessary and, replacing the parchment on the table, prepared for her sister's return.

***

Raven wandered aimlessly down the cobbled street. Diagon Alley was especially crowded now, with only a few more days to start of term. She had already purchased the books they would need for their fifth year, and their school robes were being retailored even as she walked. The brand new cauldrons filled with the numerous vials and packets for Potions floated along quietly behind her. She passed by a group of kids no more than thirteen and wondered what they were looking at..._Ah yes, that's right. The Firebolt had just been released. _Has_ just been released_, she chided herself, remembering what time she was in. _This is going to take just a bit more getting used to_. She padded quickly inside. She still had a few galleons left, and there was no harm in looking. She wouldn't be needing a new broom, of course. She and Dove had bought a couple of like-new Firebolts on sale before taking the two-year jump back. They may be expensive now, but in a couple of years they would be outdated like everything else, and not too hard to pick up.

What she _would_ be needing, however, were some new wrist pads. She and Dove had been Beaters before their little hiatus, and they had kept up some rather informal conditioning through it all. It had been one of the few things that gave them a real sense of pleasure, and it had kept their mind on what lay ahead rather than who lay next to them. Raven's mind suddenly exploded with anger. She remembered Mother's words as she had thrown the two girls into the tiny house ahead of her. _You're going to help me out, understand? Any way I deem necessary. And I don't want to hear a word about it, or else_. She'd taken away their wands and locked the precious instruments inside a drawer next to the huge bed in the back room. _The bed_...Raven's throat constricted at the memories. But she pushed them aside and regained her focus on the wrist pads hanging on hooks against the far wall. Grabbing two pairs, one for herself and one for Dove, she stalked to the counter and paid. Then she left the store in a hurry.

Stopping only to pick up the robes from Madame Malkin's, she raced back home to the tiny apartment, eager to get her mind on something else. Anything else.

***

Professor Snape sat staring in the darkness at the spot across from him where he knew a bookcase stood. He was seated at his desk with quill in hand, as if preparing to write. He had hardly believed his ears when Dumbledore had told him about the twins the night before, but it had begun to make sense the more he thought about it. A few pieces still didn't fit, but he felt sure that it was because Dumbledore had left a few things out, not because it was wrong.

He'd always assumed the prophecy was a joke, not to be taken seriously. It was only a story from magical children's fairy tale books, a simple tale. It wasn't true, surely. But he had seen the look in Dumbledore's eyes as he had spoken. It was no tale, the Winged Serpents would come indeed, and it seemed they finally had.

Snape growled at the thought of it, such horrible timing. _Why couldn't they have come earlier? Why not before all of this had gotten out of hand? Surely they could have helped_. But he knew, in the back of his mind, that it wasn't so. The Winged Serpents were healers, protectors. They were not heroes. They were fallible like everyone else, it even said so in the fairy tale. One of them always died in the end to prove their simple fragile nature. Snape bit back a shiver as a thought streamed across his mind. A line of some long-forgotten poem pierced his brain. _But when the moon and star converge/The Two shall lose the One._

The shivers wouldn't be ceased now. He thought of the two girls who had sat so proudly in the front row of his classes all these years. They weren't terribly adept at Potions, although they could carry out any number of complex instructions. But it wasn't because they were skilled at Potions, only at listening to and carrying out directions. They never seemed to grasp why the different concoctions worked the way they did. Or how one liquid could have so many different possible outcomes by adding the same ingredients in different ways. The understanding had always eluded them, no matter how hard they tried. And they had always tried very hard to succeed for him. 

_For me_, he thought suddenly. He knew it was true, he had seen it in their eyes once as he had exploded over a few careless students. They knew how angry it made him to feel unappreciated, to feel as if his skills and hard work were unappreciated. And they had immediately set out to remedy it by forcing his Potions class to the top of their list of Priorities. They had begun to sneak into the Potions classroom after curfew, experimenting and practicing. It wasn't terribly uncommon for the two to show up with singed eyebrows or purple fingers after one of their little excursions. He's known it was them, they'd been a tad careless with their cleaning up. Although it had occurred to him some time ago that they might have done it on purpose so that he would know it was them. And he had been grateful for it. He purposely left the dank classroom door keyed to them so that they might brew without interruption late at night. 

He had never told them, of course. They were Slytherins, and therefore received better treatment than other Houses, and even possibly better treatment than their fellow Slytherins. But he had never told them. And he didn't intend to. But he appreciated the effort nonetheless, and admired their seeming..._What is it_? he wondered to himself. _What is it that makes them do it_? _Admiration, perhaps_? No, although they did not hide their admiration, it wasn't what drove them to try so hard to lessen his emotional burden. Devotion seemed the right word, but he didn't feel he had the right to apply it to himself.

A thousand ideas rushed past his eyes, most of them rather pleasant. He surprised himself with is own willingness to believe that whatever it was they felt towards him, it was something he should be glad for rather than afraid of. He knew they were not against him somehow, and it was a feeling he was unused to. He'd only ever felt that around Dumbledore. _Strange that such thoughts should materialize so suddenly. Last week, I might not have given either of them a second thought past some small amount of gratitude for their hard work. But now...now I can't help but read into everything they've ever done. Every word they've spoken, every gesture they've made, every look..._He shrugged himself back into a saner realm of thought_. I'm probably overanalyzing. I shouldn't be giving them so much thought, and yet_...his thoughts broke off suddenly, and his face went white in the darkness. The last line rushed at him once more with full force. _And yet, if the story's true...then one of them will die._

***


	4. A Strange Circle

Disclaimer: Dove, Raven, Drew, Alex, Kello and Chris are miiiiiine. Everyone else is...not mine. Some of the lines are from gods-know-where. I practically collect funny quotes, so who knows. But anything that my six characters say have actually been spoken at one time or another by one, or more, of my real-life acquaintances. So you can blame them if the characters are weird. (But blame me if you like them.)

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Four: A Strange Circle

***

Dove gave Raven the softest look she could manage. Her sister had just arrived and looked far from happy. "Sit down, heart. Tell me what happened." Dove was the absolute poster-girl for sympathy when it came to her beloved sister. But her sister snapped on a skeptical look that would have made Professor McGonagall proud. "You look unhappy. And while I know my skills are in purely physical healing, and emotional stress is your own area, _please_ let me do what I can, hmm?"

Raven trudged over to her bed and collapsed, losing her concentration and thus dropping packages and bundles and cauldrons beside her onto the hardwood floor. She started at the loud clunk it made and suddenly realized her error. "Oh. Sorry." She looked back up towards Dove, but not _at_ her. Rather, she looked right through and past her. Dove did not allow herself to become unsettled however, as she was used to dealing with Raven's mood swings.

"What's wrong, heart? Tell me what happened. Tell me everything. And when you're done, I'll tell you what I've found out as well." Raven snapped back at this last remark, as Dove had known she would. "Yes, I did learn a little something. But I'm not talking until you've spilled." Raven huffed at her, but cleared her throat to speak.

"It's nothing important, really. I was just...thrown off. I was passing the new Nimbus display, and it reminded me of the broomsticks we saw in the store window just before we jumped back here. And that reminded me of why we jumped. And it just came rushing back so fast...I couldn't even begin to stop it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let it get to me. Although, I'm kind of surprised you didn't feel it." She gave Dove a penetrating look and satisfied herself that she had successfully changed the subject without really diverting from the topic at hand. Dove scowled anyway.

"I might have felt it, but it was probably overpowered by a few other feelings at the time. I'm sorry that you still have such a hard time dealing with it, and I'm especially sorry that there's nothing I can do. I wish I could help you the way you've helped me." Dove looked down at her feet, her throat constricting. She knew how hard it had been for Raven, she'd felt the same thing. But Raven had been able to help Dove get over the emotional hurt that had accompanied the physical diversities, whereas Dove had only been able to heal the bruises and welts that Raven frequently received. They were both healers, but with specific areas of persuasion. And outside of those areas, they could do no more than any other teenage witch or wizard. Dove often reprimanded herself for being so useless to Raven when her sister had been so crucial in her own recovery.

"Dove." Raven's eyes went soft, and her face released the hard edge she often felt it was necessary to wear. She knew how Dove felt, she'd often felt the same way. While she'd been able to help Dove mentally, her physicals scars and wounds had been left to heal themselves. Without Dove's physical curative powers, and with no wand to cast spells, she'd been unable to treat her sisters maladies. She brushed her fingers through her sister's tangled mess of white curls (such an odd hair color for a girl with olive skin), and whispered again. "Heart. Don't trouble yourself. We both did what we could with what we had, and I'm grateful to you just as you are to me. You have to leave it behind you now." Straightening herself back up, she regained her straightforward composure and continued. "Now, tell me what you found out. The parchment, what did you learn?"

Dove sighed and unrolled the parchment once more. Whispering the same spell she'd used earlier, she tipped the words into Raven's view. Raven's eyes remained calm and unfeeling until she saw the name that resulted. "Oh." She looked up at Dove, comprehension abandoning her. "So it _was_ him?! But how? Has it just been waiting all these years? Or is it possible that he's...that..." Her voice faltered as she looked to her sister for any sign of hope or possibility. But Dove only shook her head and sighed again.

"No. He isn't alive. We both saw him die, so you know that it's true. But I did have the same thought. So I checked the ink for aging. It was written ten years ago. Just before he died, I assume. My guess is that he asked it to be delivered at this point and no earlier. You know how Daddy was. Always planning extravagantly, always so particular, always with his reasons." She looked down sadly, remembering her father. But her thoughts were interrupted by a hasty response.

"Wait. Dove...this was sent to us in _this_ time. Not in _our_ time. We've been wondering why he didn't tell us earlier, but what if he'd meant to?" Her eyes lit up as she thought through it. The words came out jumbled and confusing, but Dove could read into her thoughts and make out the gist of it. "I think this was sent to our selves from two years ago. But we didn't receive them because we were with Her. You know She had wards up everywhere to discourage owls. What if the owl who brought this to us...What if he was meant to give it to our fifteen–year-old selves, but it was delivered to us instead. The owl wouldn't have known the difference. As far as it's concerned, we're still Dove and Raven Thomas, regardless of age or time-origin. What if we were supposed to get it two years ago, but didn't because our seventeen-year-old counterparts got it instead?"

Dove began to grasp what Raven was saying. "It does make sense. Strange and confusing sense, as is traditional with you, but sense nonetheless. If it is true though, what does it mean? What's the significance? It doesn't really matter, does it? It doesn't really change anything. We got the note, and we got it in this year as we were supposed to. Do you think it'll affect anything?" Worry carved itself into her face as she spoke, but Raven leaned toward her excitedly.

"No! That's what I mean. We didn't get it two years ago, which means that our seventeen-year-old selves must have gotten it then! We just didn't know about it. We didn't know about the note or about our other selves. Not at the time. But it still happened, and this is the proof!" She waved the parchment frantically. "Don't you get it? We were supposed to jump back! This whole time we've been worried that we would mess something up somehow, that something would go wrong and we'd be found out. But we never were found out, so it must mean that it all works out in the end! All of this was meant to happen!" Her face brightened uncharacteristically, and Dove couldn't help but return the smile.

"You're right. This is great news!" The two girls bounced up and down on the bed until their heads threatened to burst. They giggled and laughed and talked conspiratorially about the coming year, any fears of being found out having been dispatched from their minds. They packed their trunks and scrambled into bed, thinking to each other until the late hours of night. Finally, after whispery thoughts of sweet dreams passed behind their eyes, they drifted off.

***

Clambering across Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Dove and Raven scanned the crowd for any sign of their old friends. A few minutes passed, when one of them heard a very loud guffaw erupt from their right. They both turned, recognition showing in their eyes, and sought out the source of the laughter. Only a few yards away, they found who they were looking for.

"Dove! Raven! Woo! We haven't seen you all summer! Where have you been?!" Kello Kage started bounding towards them, her long blonde hair (a physical characteristic of great envy among most Hogwarts girls) jouncing about behind her. She pushed through towards them and squished them into a big hug. She stood over the two girls by at least six inches, although she was only a Fourth Year herself. Although she was a Gryffindor, she had been a friend of the twins years before they'd all attended Hogwarts, and no Sorting Hat was going to break them up now. She'd been with them all through their father's ordeal and stuck with them right up until She had taken them away.

As Kello released the girls, three more students came running up behind her to surround the twins. Another Fifth Year, Chris Tofer, was a Gryffindor like Kello, and had originally been the one to introduce Raven to the Weasley twins (close friends of his and frequent partners-in-crime). But his good humor and willingness to do "anything for a laugh" had earned him a place at the trio's study table, and thus in their hearts. He was terribly intelligent, but barely made the effort even to pass most of his classes. He was a nice guy, though, and had made friends with practically everybody as he had the selfless tendency of making jokes at his own expense instead of everyone else's.  Slytherins had a habit of getting into arguments with him just to hear him joke about himself. He sort of looked like an older, cuddlier version of Neville Longbottom (which made sense, as they were not-so-distant cousins).

Alex Gordon, also a Fifth Year, was a muggle-born Ravenclaw, and as such, had been the only one ever to understand the jokes the twins made about Muggle pop culture. He kept them in good supply of Monty Python tapes and Eddie Izzard cd's, and in return they complimented him on his cutting wit when it came to topics such as Scooby Doo and Colin Firth. He had soft brownish-gold hair which fluffed about in his face, and bright blue eyes. He was positively dashing, and could easily have given Draco Malfoy a run for his money if he didn't always act like a nine-year-old with a spectacular vocabulary.

Last, but never least, was the only other Slytherin of the group, Drew Maxim. With spiky hair that was forever changing colors, and gorgeous deep hazelly eyes, he was the object of much affection. A Fourth Year with Kello, he was arrogant, ambitious to a fault (even for a Slyth), stylish, handsome, witty, and the stereotypical Slytherin bisexual (everyone knew he had eyes for Draco, but nobody was stupid enough to discourage him). His style and manner were nearly as sharp as his tongue.

The six friends had been an amazing source of gossip during the first couple of years, fraternizing between Houses was not socially acceptable amongst Slytherins and most Ravenclaws, but a few well-played duels had snuffed out all sly comments after the twins' fourth year. They were also left alone due to their outstanding reputation of having the weirdest conversations imaginable. If a young witch or wizard made the mistake of walking in on one such convo, there was no telling what they might hear. Dove and Raven made up a quick story about spending their summer with an old Muggle friend (which brought Alex right into his element) and then quickly diverted the attention to Chris. One thing you could always count on was Chris' natural ability to soak up attention. He immediately leapt into a hilarious account of his own summer hijinks, and the six friends laughed frantically as they boarded the train.

Scooting into a box, they threw out the two lowly Second Years who had dared infiltrate and settled down to swap tales and tell jokes. Chris finished off his story and Kello took off with her own. Lip gloss spells and fair-skinned wizards dominated as she drove onward, punctuating every so often with an impression of some little old lady she'd met on hols. "What the fuck...that's c-a-razy...I'm old!" she cried out in a perfect Jewish grandmother accent. The crew laughed hysterically and turned to Alex.

"So what'd you do, Alex? No doubt you've spent the past two months doing something incredibly productive and interesting." Drew mouthed off. Alex sneered sarcastically and poked Drew in the ribs. Then, dodging a smack from the Slyth boy, he bent into conversation.

"Actually, yes. I was very productive, and I'm always interesting. I've spent the last few weeks documenting the progress that Muggle animation has made." He raised his eyebrows in mock superiority as Kello giggled.

"So...you watched cartoons." Chris confirmed. The girls laughed at his disapproving manner and waited for Alex's reply.

He puckered his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. Then with a loud huff said "Yeah, pretty much."

Dove smiled and inquired as to the specifics of his research.

"Well, I tried to focus on the American 'toons this summer. They have been so disappointing in the past. But with the arrival of the Powerpuff Girls and Dexter's Laboratory, I had hoped they may have risen above the old clichés. Unfortunately, I was wrong."

"You should stick to the old stuff, like Scooby Doo. He'll never let you down. That Shaggy...he's a card." Raven remarked slyly.

"Oh, no. Scooby Doo has slipped and let me down in the past few years. The newest incarnation of which has only one plus: that they've improved the animation of Daphne. So I can now be attracted to her as a cartoon, comfortable in the knowledge that she is in possession of facial features," Alex deadpanned. The box exploded in laughter, and it was some time before the conversation could be switched back to anything resembling normality. Alex finished his account with a theory on why Americans should have stopped with stick figures, before handing the floor to Drew.

Drew waited until everyone had settled down before starting. "Nothing happened to me, really. I spent the hols with my parents in France, as I always do. Nothing of particular interest there. Although..." He broke off and waited for the barrage that would soon follow.

"What?! What happened?!" came the cries and queries. He raised his hand to silence them and continued on.

"Well, I ran into an old friend, as it happens. Spent most of the time with him. Nice fellow too. Shame school had to resume so soon." He blathered on, skirting the details, never divulging the name of his summer companion. Amidst angry remarks and threats on his life, he bantered forth and brought them up to speed. Finally, when he thought they could take no more, when he was sure they would explode if he didn't tell them, he smiled. "Oh, did I forget to mention his name?"

Outcries of where his parents really came from, and where he could shove his wand poured forth in an angry torrent, and he laughed helplessly at his own ability to stir up trouble. "Well, why didn't you just ask? Of course I'll tell you. I spent most of the summer with..." an annoyingly long dramatic pause, "Draco Malfoy."

The stunned silence that followed was enough to convince Drew that his merciless leads and empty hints had been well worth the verbal abuse. He sat back and relished the quiet, closed his eyes and abruptly fell asleep. The others stared on, disbelieving. _Draco Malfoy?!_ was the overpowering thought in all their heads. And the rest of the trip was spent in thoughtful solitude.

***


	5. Secrets for Supper

Disclaimer: look, if you don't recognize the names, they probably belong to me. otherwise, they belong to her Greatness, J.K. Rowling. if a line is funny, then i either copied it down after one of my funny friends said it, jotted it down while watching some tv show or movie, or wrote it down off the top of my own head in the hopes that you might giggle. i hope i haven't stolen ideas from any other fics, but if i have, you have my express permission to inform me of it and then stone me.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Five: Secrets for Supper

***

The two girls sat across from Drew, quietly speculating as to the sexual preference and House possibilities of the new First Years. It had not escaped Raven's amused notice that Drew was eagerly declaring all the better-looking boys as being incredibly gay and obvious choices for Slytherin. Dove's attention, however, was being torn away bit by bit. Her eyes were caught at the High Table by Professor Snape. He seemed to be looking back at her with an expression she couldn't remember ever seeing on his face before. A strange mixture vaguely reminiscent of...worry? She shook it off and turned back to her friends. Surely, she was seeing things. And even if he was looking at them, it was probably with nothing more than curiosity. After all, hadn't Headmaster Dumbledore let him in on their little secrets?

Suddenly, Dove's head exploded with fear. _Our secrets! He knows everything!_ She'd nearly forgotten exactly what his "debriefing" would consist of. Suddenly her thoughts turned to frantic anticipation. _How will he treat us now that he knows?_ He'd been nearly kind to them before, especially after they started putting such efforts into Potions. He knew it wasn't their specialty, far from it, but Dove could read the frustration in his eyes whenever some careless student added a wrong ingredient or miswrote directions.

Raven had asked her one day during their Second Year why she thought he got so upset. And it had hit Dove like a sack of Strengthened Bricks. He felt unappreciated, and he probably was (judging from the looks and mumbled phrases that were usually directed towards him). When Dove had explained her theory to Raven, she could feel the sympathy that had instantly begun to well up within her sister. And Raven's emotions had a tendency to reach such intensity that Dove couldn't help but adopt them as her own.

They had immediately thrown themselves into their self-ordered mission. They had begun to sneak into the cold Potions classroom after curfew. They had studied and practiced and experimented into the latest hours of the night, most often to disastrous results, but they had always made sure that he knew it was them. They cleaned up after themselves, but left tiny hints; a scrap of paper with a name on it or a favorite quill. Just so he would know that they were making an effort. And he _had_ known. He'd never said anything as it wasn't his way, but they'd never really expected him to either. They'd noticed it though, in how he had always softened his glares for them, always lowered the venom in his icy tones. And while he must have known about their late-night escapades, he'd never said anything about their use of the classroom. After that second year, they'd never feared him. The large black and silvery-white eyes that greeted him whenever he walked into a room were full of admiration and understanding, not anger or loathing like so many other students.

But now, Dove was afraid that she might once again feel that long-forgotten fear when they returned to his class. _Knowing what he does, how will he treat us? Will he ask us impossible questions and sneer at the unfavorable results? He knows that despite our constant efforts we are quite unable to do any more than follow instructions. There is just no understanding at all. Will he use that against us? _Dove began to shake at the thought that Professor Snape knew more about Raven and herself than any other person alive, save Dumbledore himself. When it came to ingredients and results, there was none better than Snape. But when it came to such sensitive and personal issues...she just couldn't be sure.

_Would you cut that out! _Dove's head was split in two by Raven's hurried thoughts. _You're making _me_ nervous now!_ She hadn't thought Raven was paying attention.

_Sorry_, she thought back sulkily, _I just can't help it. I'm worried_.

_Obviously._

Dove threw an exasperated look in Raven's direction._ Well, I can't really help it, can I?_

_Don't be so uptight about it. No point in getting us both all worked up over nothing. We'll see what's what at Potions. Until then, leave it be. Alright?_

_Yes, alright. _She turned back to the table and realized with a start that she had completely zoned out for the whole of the Sorting, and the tables were already covered in platters of food and jugs of pumpkin juice. With a sigh, she started pulling things onto her plate and forced herself to pay attention to the rumors, schemes, and threats that made up most Slytherin conversation.

***

Unconscious of the activity and gossip the other professors were throwing around him, Severus Snape was trying desperately to focus on something other than the two girls across from the Maxim boy. For the last few days he had been mulling over everything he could recall about the myth of the Winged Serpents. Searching desperately for any sign of a loophole, he was disgusted with himself at his prominent failure. There was no potion, no charm, no incantation that would be able to change the fates of these two unfortunate girls. And it angered him to no end. The fact that he couldn't seem to account for this uncharacteristic compassion of mind didn't seem to be helping.

Blinking miserably, unwilling to allow himself the luxury of letting his emotions escape, he tried to focus once more on his surrounding environment. To his great distress, he realized he'd been staring vacantly towards the seat which Dove Thomas had been occupying. He nearly started again when it occurred to him that all of the new students had been Sorted without his knowledge. _How long have I been staring at her?_ he wondered. His heart skipped a third time when he noticed that she had been staring back. She obviously thought that he'd been looking _at_ her, rather than _towards_ her.

However, fascinatingly enough, she didn't seem to mind his attention. Although she appeared to be trying to read his face, no doubt searching for his motivation to stare. He momentarily entertained the idea of speaking to her after the meal, but decided against it immediately after running a few possible outcomes through his head. Only one was even remotely positive, and the possibility itself was as remote as his optimism.

He shrugged himself back to the table and growled lightly. _No sense forgetting my place here. Cold-hearted, unsympathetic, soulless bastard of a Potions Master. Remember that._ And he tore himself away from Dove's soft wondering gaze.

***

The Slytherin common room was bustling with activity. Trunks were being emptied, beds fought over, new roommates decided, allies forged and enemies encountered. Drew sighed heavily as he headed towards his own dormitory. Mumbling to himself, he plopped down on the bed he had occupied for the past four years. He buried himself in the heavy blankets, burrowing down into the warmth. Turning his head slightly to the left, he prepared to start some random rumors with his mate, Devon Ryle. Devon was an acquaintance of his, and had occupied the bed immediately to the left of his own since their first year. Drew was therefore very surprised to find a slim figure with white-blonde hair relaxing there instead of Devon's muscular bulk.

"Draco? What are you doing here?" Drew asked. He was dreadfully curious and wanted to know immediately whether Draco would be staying. However, fearing that Draco would only sputter out some useless wit in response, he kept his curiosity buried. If Draco knew how curious Drew was, he would swallow his enthusiasm to speak and say nothing. Draco's annoying tendency to annoy without provocation or obvious motivation was the one thing that had always bothered Drew. As long as there would be some favorable result, he could easily understand the need to pester and bully, but Draco seemed to do so merely for the attention it brought him. And Drew had never been one for spectator sports.

Malfoy looked up slowly, as if only just realizing that he was being spoken to. "Oh, well, I thought I'd ask you a question," he stuttered. His eyes became suddenly alert and began to dart around the otherwise empty room. His cheeks began to brighten and he sat up roughly. "I just wanted to know...I mean, because you...erm, that is to say that I..." He stumbled over the words a bit, before straightening his shirt and sitting up with a look of utter decisiveness. "I wanted to know if you-"

But he had no chance to finish as Devon Ryle sauntered into the room loudly, barking back the tail-end of a joke and waiting for the laughter he was sure he had planned on receiving from the common room. He forgot all about the laughter, however, when he turned towards his bed and noticed Malfoy looking rather ruffled about the unexpected intrusion. He grinned and immediately threw himself into the fray. "What's wrong, lover-boy? Didn't get enough of Drew over hols? Come on now, you know this room is Fourth Years only, get up and get out. Come on, boy, on with it then. Silly little Third Year." He spoke good-naturedly, but the hidden threat beneath wasn't hard to locate.

Draco looked quickly over to Drew, who was masking his annoyance masterfully, and then jumped off the bed and rushed past Ryle. Ryle watched him go, waiting for the door to click before turning back to Drew. "Drew, honestly. The little bugger isn't worth your time. He's a pesky little thing who doesn't understand his place here. He still thinks his daddy will take care of everything for him. Besides, there's no telling why he's warmed up to you so suddenly. You've got to watch out for that one, he'd screw himself to get ahead."

Drew smiled reluctantly. He knew that what Ryle said was true. But he also knew that Devon's jealous tendencies would mar any possibility of adulation. Ryle still had a crush on Drew and he just didn't want the competition. Especially not from a wealthy, handsome git like Draco, whose father probably _could_ take care of everything for him. If Draco kept this up, Ryle would be forced to call him out, and Drew knew it. So, in an attempt to save the blonde-headed boy a bit of time, he changed the subject.

"So, I hear you're finally going out for Beater against the twins. You think you'll get it?"

Ryle's eyes flickered with hunger. "I'd damn well better. I've been practicing all summer. I'm sick of those two girls snagging both positions. I ought to at least be able to bum Dovey out of a spot. Everyone knows she can't aim worth her life. She's just as likely to hit one of our Slyths as some pathetic Huffle_fluff_. She's a liability, she is."

"That's true enough. But she doesn't really have to aim, does she? She never tries to hit anyone else anyway, she just keeps the Bludgers off her own. Raven does all the aiming for her; she could probably bang the snitch from halfway across the field if she tried. Everyone knows that Dove goes defense while Raven goes offense. There hasn't been anything like it before, not here at Hogwarts," Drew settled into Cold-Blooded Sympathy mode easily. "They're a force to reckon with and Captain knows it. I doubt he'll let one of them go to let you on just because you've been _practicing_, it'd mess up the whole strategy of it. And he's even less likely to drop them both. If you plan on beating them out for a spot, you'd better start _practicing_ harder." He spit the words out as if they were acid on his tongue, then turned to watch Devon's reaction.

Devon blinked in surprise. He was always thrown off when Drew went into Cold-Blooded Sympathy mode. He could probably make a grown man break down and cry with his "compliments". But Devon just dismissed it as he always did, snapped back into reality, and began unpacking the rest of his things. Drew sighed, wondering why he even bothered with the thick-headed loaf, and turned over onto his side, away from the hulk across from him. Afterwards, when Devon tried to resume his earlier rant about Malfoy, he was disappointed to find that Drew was already asleep.

***

Meanwhile, in another dorm, the Thomas girls were having a discussion of their own. Dove was relaxing on her own bed in the far left corner of the room, while Raven was sitting in a large over-stuffed chair in front of the fire. To any other individual who might walk into the room, it would appear as if they took no notice of one another. But their minds were practically reeling from the fast-paced thoughts that burbled to and fro in their heads.

_It was so strange though, I've never seen such a gash on him before_, Raven mused. _I mean, he's usually got small tears and worn spots, but never anything like this. Whatever it is, it's positively ripping him apart._

_Are you sure about this?_ Dove prodded softly._ Because if it's really as bad as you say, you know that we'll have to-_

_Yes, I know_, Raven cut her off abruptly. _It's not like I'm making it up just to maneuver myself into a position to get closer to him. I don't like him any more than you do. But nobody deserves that sort of pain, not even Malfoy._

_I know. But there's no way for us to help him, is there? He has to tell us what it was that did it, and he has to ask for our help. There's no other way, and you know it. He isn't just going to randomly volunteer his deepest wounds to us, and he certainly won't ask for our help._

_Maybe..._

_What?_

_Well, he and Drew seem to be getting on. Maybe Drew can smuggle something out of him and sort of put in a good word for us._

_But why would he do that? Even Drew doesn't know what we can do. You don't think we should tell him, do you?_

_Well, no. But still... _Raven looked at her sister hopefully._ Please, heart. It's going to hurt me until he's fixed. You know how it works. I just want to get it over with. _She began to pick at something that Dove couldn't see. But even without the sight that Raven possessed, Dove knew and understood.

Dove looked at her sister. The immensity of her sister's heartache and sacrifice hit her full-force. The curse was part of the gift. If they didn't heal him soon, Raven would begin to feel the effects of it. Dove nodded mutely and lay back into her pillow. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raven slump, exhausted, onto her own bed. Clearing their minds for each other, they both slept.

***


	6. Feathered Dreams

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Only the stuff you don't recognize belongs to me. If you do recognize it, then it's someone else's.

Just a bit updated, in case anyone cares.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Six: Feathered Dreams

***

Dove was shivering violently in her sleep. It took a rather forceful shove to finally wake her. She snapped up, grabbing at her side. The girls often had very different reactions to the dreams they shared, but Dove had never been so violent before. Raven was at her side as soon as she'd heard the first thrashes.

"Where is it?! We need it! WHERE IS IT?!" In her frustration, Dove began to cry uncontrollably. The sobs sagged out of her and her body shook with the effort. Raven tried desperately to hold her, to keep her still somehow, but she couldn't match Dove's sheer determination to cry it out. After a few unsuccessful attempts to wrap her arms around her frightened sister, she gave up. Resigning herself to her position, she crossed her legs and spoke.

"What's wrong, Dove?" The words spilled from her easily. She'd said them all too often over the past few years with Dove...and Her.

"The dream. It was the dream. I don't understand it."

"Can I fix it for you?"

"Yes. Please." The gratitude on her sister's face nearly wiped out her concentration. But she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Very quickly, and very deliberately, she began to pick and pull at the unseen Fabric surrounding Dove. Her fingers were nimble from experience, plucking and pressing, pinching and prodding. As she worked, the tension eased off of Dove's face until it was as bright as the early morning sun outside.

Finally, Raven dropped her hands to her sides. She gave a sigh and began rubbing her hands together softly. Dove noticed and looked at her sister expectantly, "They hurt." A statement, not a question. Her sister nodded, all too aware of the exchange that would once more take place. "Can I fix it?" Another nod, and Raven held her aching hands out to Dove. Dove took them into her own and just held onto them, concentrating. The pain smoothed out of Raven's overworked fingers and left no trace of itself. The two girls looked at each other. Thoughts ran back and forth between the two. They grabbed a few of Dove's leftover Chocolate Frogs to munch on and discussed their abilities and the responsibilities that accompanied, they discussed Draco and their plans to thwart his uncompromising ways, and then they discussed Snape.

_Our first Potions is today_, Dove thought softly.

_I know._

_Do you still think we should leave him alone? Let him come to us?_

_Yes._

_Alright_. Dove sighed one last time before pulling herself off the bed and rummaging through some clothes. As she pulled out a clean robe, her sister threw one last thought in her direction.

_Heart, what did our dream mean?_ Dove looked up, startled at the question. She paused, a soft confusion glistening in her eyes before disappearing altogether.

Then, with a matter-of-factness that she rarely used, she answered aloud. "I don't know."

The girls dressed quickly and made their way down to the great hall. They settled down between two fifth year boys, sharing soft smiles and batting their eyelashes. The boys gave a quick glance and then set to making up plates for the girls. While the two boys worked, Dove and Raven turned to Drew, who was sitting across from them as usual. Waving a hand at him, they signaled for him to draw in closer. As he leaned in, they began to explain that they had seen Draco looking a bit down, and wondered if he knew anything.

Drew gave them curious looks and relayed the events of the night before. The girls looked at each other and thought quickly to one another, wondering whether it really had anything to do with Drew. But it didn't seem to fit, so they pushed him farther. After a few more minutes, they had gotten no farther, and finally decided just to recruit him.

"Drew, will you do us a favor and try to figure out what it is?" Raven spoke with a slurry whisper, trying to eat and speak at once. Drew gurgled at her in distaste and then nodded.

"Yeah, sure. I was planning on talking to him anyway. Although I don't know why you two care." He finished with a curious look in his eyes, but they made no attempt to fill him in. So he sighed as loudly as he could manage and muttered to himself, annoyed.

"Oh, come on, Drew. There isn't anything going on, we're just curious. Besides, if you like him so much, he must have some redeeming qualities. Just put in a good work for us, will you? We might want to talk to him later." 

"Yeah, alright," and he readied himself to leave. "Well, I'm off to Herbology. Have fun in Potions," he snickered, and sauntered off. Raven threw a furtive glance at Dove and they both excused themselves from the clutches of the Fifth Years beside them. Steeling themselves for whatever lay ahead, they took their time getting down to the dungeons.

***

Snape sat at the large desk, his fingers plucking against one another, his eyes glazed. Deep in thought, he hadn't even noticed Dumbledore enter. He nearly started when the old man cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Well, Severus. Have you yet decided how you are going to deal with the two Thomases?" His eyes twinkled with something akin to delight, and Snape wondered why he was in such a good mood. "I believe you teach their class in just a few minutes."

Snape snapped back immediately. He's forgotten that today was his first lesson with the girls this term. He had no idea how he was going to handle them now. Surely he shouldn't handle them any differently, it would only arouse suspicion. He voiced his thoughts to Dumbledore and waited for a reply.

"Indeed. As I told them before, it would not do to put any unnecessary thoughts into the heads of their peers, but they will still need some guidance. While they are aware of their own capabilities, I do not think they understand just what may be in store for them. You shall need to clarify things with them, I imagine. But for now," he smiled and began to turn, continuing his last thoughts over his shoulder, "It might be best if you reassure them as to your own position on the subject."

Snape leaned back in his chair. Of course, he was right. The girls were aware that Dumbledore had enlightened him as to the situation, that much he knew. But it hadn't occurred to him that they might question his reaction to them in this new light. It was very possible that they thought he might be angry with them, or disappointed. Although he could not tell why they might decide on such a reaction from him. If they had been Gryffindors, or any other house for that matter, it was possible that he might not approve of such developments. But these were Slytherins. And not just any Slytherins, they weren't just two random girls full of malice and greed and corruption of the most foul sort. (Ugly visions of Pansy Parkinson drifted into his head and he choked on the thought.) These were two of his own. Cunning, ambitious, capable, calculating, aware, and more than worthy.  The malice and greed and corruption were still there, but to such a slight degree, and with such subtlety and analysis of forethought, as to actually become virtues.

As his mind wrapped around these thoughts, something new struck him. Racking his brain back as far as he could remember, he came to the realization that, while unhappy that the Fates should choose these two girls to bear such responsibilities, he could think of no others who would have been as capable. _Perhaps the Fates _do_ know what they're doing, after all_, he mused. Picking himself up, he darkened his features and straightened his robes. Then he marched out of his office and stalked towards the classroom. He had his own responsibilities to attend to now.

***

Raven gave Dove the traditional coast-is-clear nod and moved smoothly into the common room. Classes had gone remarkably well during their first week, considering. They had each had a bit of trouble grasping the new techniques in Charms, but had finally picked it up with a bit of extra help from Alex. Transfiguration was as easy as they'd remembered, slipping into the theories and movements swiftly. Herbology and Defense Against Dark Arts were slow, but Runes was beginning to pick up some speed. Potions, to their surprise, was just as it had always been. Snape had appeared for all the world as if absolutely nothing had happened. They had, at first, questioned whether Dumbledore had actually filled him in on everything, but Raven was able to dispel that as wishful thinking. Her thoughts were confirmed in Dove's mind when they received a note from Snape saying that he wished to speak with them over the weekend.

Divination was a blurry memory of laughter and detentions. Raven had remembered the Tricky Tarot cards just before class and had slipped them to the Weasley twins with a quick explanation. The twins had made a few adjustments, tweaking the spells and perfecting a couple of their own ingenious little charms, before handing them back. Divination was, without a doubt, the worst class that Dove and Raven had ever forced themselves to sit through. But it had been such a great source of amusement to them that they had been unable to drop it. They were constantly contenting themselves with scrambled predictions and visions, making a complete mockery of every assignment. It wasn't often that Professor Trelawney caught on, but when she did, it was a spectacle unto itself. When she'd used the Tricky Tarot cards that Raven (just barely) managed to sneak onto her desk, she'd predicted all manner of amazing things, and it had earned the twins their first detentions, not to mention ten points from Slytherin. Each. But everyone in the class had agreed that it was well worth it.

For now though, all thoughts were subdued. Right now they were concentrating on the only other figure in the common room with them. Sitting quietly on a couch facing the ornate fireplace across from them, his eyes glossed over and blank, was Draco Malfoy. He seemed absolutely lost in himself. Raven approached cautiously, not wishing to catch him off-guard, thus putting him automatically into Defense mode. She walked around the couch, making her presence known through sheer force of will, rather than by any noise. She was only slightly surprised, then, to hear Draco address her without any seeming change to his demeanor.

"Raven," he nodded slightly. "I assume Dove is also here." Dove came from around the other side of the couch. She looked at Raven and, wordlessly, they both dropped to the couch, successfully sandwiching Draco between them.

"Draco, we want to talk to you," Dove began. She readied herself for some strange outburst, but no sneer came. After a few tense moments, she continued, making things up as she went along, "Drew is worried about you. He said you seem...different. He wondered if there was anything wrong, and we thought we'd find out. Perhaps we can help." Once again, she prepared herself for some form of harsh rebuke; a cruel inquiry as to their unfounded prying. But once again, nothing came. Then, after a few silent moments, he spoke.

Even Raven was taken aback by his response. Rather than yelling or grating his jaw with anger or softly offending their ancestry, he answered them. His eyes had never lost that glossy look, but now they seemed to well up with frustration. "Nobody can help. It's too late. And there's nothing anyone can do." His voice was neither malicious nor cruel, only empty. He sounded as if he'd lost all sense of any kind of hope. And, from Draco Malfoy, this was quite alarming.

Raven pushed a bit more. "Draco, tell us what it is. And I promise, if you want our help, it's yours. You'd be surprised at what we may be able to do for you." She spoke with such assurance that Draco was pulled out of his silent haze. He looked at her, wondering whether to believe this shred of possibility. Finally, as if unable to sustain such hopelessness, he gave in and told them.

"It's my mother. She's...sick."

_No wonder he's giving in so easily,_ Raven thought to Dove. _It's something to do with his mother_. Dove nodded slightly in agreement and they both focused their attentions back on Draco.

"I'm sure you're aware of my father's..._associates_." He choked on the word, reviling it even as he spoke it. "My mother accidentally stumbled into a room where they were holding conference and my father, in his maliciously unthinking manner, punished her for her intrusion." The two girls gasped at the unspoken insinuation. "I don't know what hexes or curses he threw at her. And he doesn't seem to recall either, because he hasn't been able to remove them. He doesn't even really seem to care. But they're...they-" He broke off, his voice lost and broken with the effort of speaking. He took in a few ragged breaths and forced himself to finish. "She's dying," he said finally.

Dove's eyes were furiously beating back the onslaught of tears that threatened to peel out of her, but she refused them. Timidly at first, she reached to put her hand around Draco. She was surprised at how easily he sank into her. Raven merely sat back, taking everything in and swirling it around in her mind. If all of this was true, then it should be a fairly simple task to heal. Dove could work with the hexes and curses, fix her physically, then she would be able to mend her Fabric. And, hopefully, Draco's as well. But he had to accept, if not ask for, their help first.

Raven allowed Dove to ease Draco back into a state of semi-aware consciousness before moving on. "Draco. May we help you?" She paused, waiting for the affirmation she hoped would come.

"How can you help me?" His voice was so set, so bland and devoid of recognition, that she stuttered.

"H-how? Erm..." She was flustered now. She couldn't decide whether or not she should tell him. While it may help him make the decision to allow their aid, it could damage them in the long run. What if he tells? What if he uses it against us? She contemplated the various advantages and disadvantages, then decided that he would probably not go against them if they could manage to heal his mother. Hopefully, he would feel the debt between them and let it go. So, after a few confirming thoughts to Dove, she began.

"Draco, I'm going to tell you a few things that nobody else really knows." She spoke evenly, surprising herself with her own ready tone. She paused to ensure that she had his attention before going on. "Slytherin House has a bit of a reputation for its myths, legends, and prophecies. Most of which actually turn out to be true. Have you ever heard of the Winged Serpents?" Draco nodded slightly, question marks rising behind his eyes. She debated with herself over how to tell him. Finally, she decided just to tell him straight out. "Well, we're them."

The question marks behind Draco's eye multiplied and then turned into exclamation marks. "Is this some kind of a joke?!" he snarled. Lurching away from Dove, he stood up and glared at the two. Dove looked worried, Raven merely looked prepared. Raven flickered a thought to Dove without taking her eyes off of Draco. They couldn't risk losing him now. Dove glanced quickly at Raven, then back at Draco. With little debate, she gave in to Raven's plan and they each stood up and shed their robes. Standing side by side in their school uniforms, Raven addressed him once more.

"Stand back, Draco. If you want proof, we will supply it. But keep your eyes on us and remember what I've just told you." He watched them dubiously as they distanced themselves a bit from each other. They spread their legs a couple of feet apart and held their arms a few inches away from their sides. He watched, astonished at their reaction to his accusations, as their jaws clenched with concentration and their forearms flexed with amazing force. Muscles that couldn't have developed just from beating Bludgers during season unearthed and pronounced themselves. And, to his amazement, the girls began to Transfigure.

***

Snape was settled in his office, deliberately avoiding the essays his new First Years had turned in. _Parchment after parchment of pure drivel_, he thought in disgust. He dropped the parchment of one Steven Sappins and rubbed at his temples in an effort to purge the stress from his mind. As he did so, he felt the familiar pull in the back of his head. Sighing, he extracted himself from his chair and headed for the Headmaster's office. He pause only once along the way to deduct points from a couple of suspicious-looking Gryffindors.

Stepping in front of the familiar gargoyle, he whispered the password, "Fluffy Poppers," unwilling that any stray student should hear him utter the cursed words. He wandered onto the moving staircase and stepped inside when the door flung itself open before him.

"Ah, Severus. Good of you to come. I thought this might be of some interest to you." Dumbledore grinned broadly and motioned towards a round green mirror that lay on his desk, on of the House mirrors. They could show anyone or anything from a House at anytime. They were quite useful in putting a stop to unseemly House conduct. However, it had always seemed to Snape that Dumbledore used them more for entertainment purposes. If Snape had owned a set, he would be after those pesky Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs every waking moment of the day. However, the mirror which Dumbledore seemed to be observing with so much amusement did not belong to one of those inferior Houses. It was the Slytherin glass. He wondered, absently, what it was that his students were doing now.

Trudging over to the desk, Snape pulled a chair up opposite the Headmaster and leaned over to see the reflection. Noting the large bookcases full of the familiar House texts, the overstuffed furniture and oak tables, and the enormous carved fireplace, he realized that he was looking into the common room. But nothing was capable of holding the attention away from the three figures who occupied the center of the room. He recognized them as Dove and Raven Thomas and Draco Malfoy, but not before he recognized the new appendages which stretched from between the shoulder blades of each of the girls.

Each of the two girls had a pair of wings extending from their backs. The wing spans were amazing, nearly fourteen feet across, judging from the size of the room in comparison. Not surprisingly, Dove's wings were silvery white with bluish tinges near the ends, and Raven's were pitch black with just the lightest hint of purple. It made sense as the wings were, technically, more an extension of their personalities than their bodies. But Snape still gasped in surprise. He had no idea that the poem was being literal about their having wings. He looked up to Dumbledore's beaming face. "But how-"

"It is difficult to say. They have had their share of troubles, Severus, and it is quite possible that they attempted to achieve status as Animagi in order to escape their troubles, whether mentally or physically. But how they managed to attain Animergence is knowledge I do not presently possess. Perhaps you'd do well to ask them." Dumbledore turned back down to the glass on the desk, his eyes afire with delight. Snape noticed a particular emotion behind Dumbledore's eyes and grumbled.

"You knew about this." He spoke evenly and without malice. It was a question, but without the indignity of showing ignorance. "You knew any you didn't tell me. Or even McGonagall. A field of study she's been pursuing for years, and my students, and you said nothing. Headmaster-"

But Albus interrupted him quietly. "Yes, I knew. As a matter of fact, they flew up here last week to discuss the letter."

"They can _use_ them?!" Snape couldn't believe his ears. But neither could he believe his own outburst when he realized he'd spoken out loud. 

Albus smiled and nodded before continuing. "It was not something that needed to be shared. It seems, however, that this new excitement has the possibility of being spread if young Malfoy decides to speak. So I thought it best to inform you, just in case. I have already Summoned Minerva, and she will join us momentarily, whereupon I will be happy to answer any questions you two may still possess."

Snape also looked back at the glass, thoughts flooding his brain. Yes, he had many questions.

***

Draco had finally recovered from the shock and was now attacking the two girls with questions. They were tempted to giggle at his sudden outburst of childish curiosity, but instead chose to answer him as truthfully as possible. Finally, to their chagrin, he stepped into the one arena they had been trying to avoid.

"How did it happen? I mean, doesn't it take years to do that? And why don't you change all the way?" he blurted out.

Dove spoke first. "Well, we're not sure why we don't change all they way. I guess we never completed the Transfiguration to Animagus and just sort of got stuck. We've never been able to do more than this." She paused and waited to see if Draco would notice that she hadn't answered the other questions. Unfortunately, he had.

"And?"

"And...I'm not sure you want to hear this." Raven interrupted. She wasn't embarrassed, really. Just unwilling to divulge information that he might not be able to fully understand. But as she thought about it, an idea occurred to her. "Wait, hold on. Change of subject. Draco, you're mother is really sick, right? So there's no way she could come to us...we're going to have to go to her. And I assume she's at your home, yes?"

Draco nodded in reply. "Yeah, she's settled upstairs on the third floor. He has her in a set of rooms across from his own. But you can't get up there. My father doesn't let anybody near his rooms except house-elves and whores." He tried to smile at what he seemed to find a very witty remark, but no smile came.

Raven narrowed her eyes. "Well, maybe this could be helpful then." She explained her idea to Dove quickly over a few brainwaves and then began to sort it through to Draco, with only a few interruptions from Dove.

"OK, here goes. Erm, Draco, for the last two years, we've been with our Mother." She paused at the look of confusion on his face and allowed him to ask.

Draco noted the almost palpable capital letter in reference to their mother, the revulsion was evident. But he couldn't grasp what Raven was saying. "Wait...you've been here at school. How could you have been with your mum?"

"We haven't been here for the last two years. I'll explain. We had just turned fifteen years old, when our Mother collected us after the end of our fourth year. She had apparently gotten into some trouble with a few Muggles. You see, our Mother had chosen to forsake all forms of magick after our father died. She snapped her wand in two and moved to a small Muggle community. When we were of age, She left us at Hogwarts and forced us to fend for ourselves during summer hols. Sometime during those first four years She got into some financial trouble and made a few _really_ bad decisions. She ended up living in a tiny flat with some junkies She'd met around town." She paused briefly to ensure that Draco had understood everything, making sure she explained the term "junkie" to him before going on. "She got hooked on a few Muggle narcotics and discovered that She had no real way of paying for them. So She started selling Herself for drugs."

She gave Draco a few minutes to process this new information. There were very few instances of witches becoming prostitutes. Witches were held in higher regard in the wizarding community that in the Muggle circle. They saw themselves in a different, more respectable light, and were almost never subjected to such feelings of worthlessness as Muggle women were prone to. They therefore never allowed themselves to sink into such low situations as to auction themselves off as such. This would probably be a hard concept for Draco to grasp, and Raven tried to recognize that. He did not, however, seem to muddle through it in the least. He was obviously embarrassed about the earlier remark of "house-elves and whores", but to Raven's relief, he made no move to apologize. He merely sat, understanding and unhappy anticipation drawing across his face.

"Well, the habits that She got into started to outweigh the money She was making. She ended up in the debt of a man that nobody should ever be in debt to. So She recruited us as a sort of side business. We were very young, and youth is prized even over ability to Muggle men." The self-deprecation made no effort to veil itself now. " Our Mother sold us to Muggle men to pay for her disgusting drug addictions. So, in our desperation, we attempted to find a way to escape, any way. We tried to focus on keeping in shape for Quidditch, knocking about anything we could find around the house with a couple of makeshift bats. We tried to keep our minds off of the men on top of us at night and, sometimes, even during the day, by thinking to each other through it. We tried everything we could come up with, Draco. But in the end, the only real possibility was to Transfigure ourselves and, hopefully, sneak out."

"Why didn't you just use a few spells to get out of there? You were Fourth Years and Slytherins, surely you knew something that could help you out of there. And you said she broke her own wand, so she couldn't have been much opposition." Draco pointed this out without any hint of assumption. He figured they had a good reason, but he wanted to know what it was.

"She took our wands."

Draco's eyes went wide, but he didn't speak. Only waited patiently for her to continue.

"The only Transfiguration we could think of that can be achieved wandlessly was Animagism. To become an Animagus, while it is useful and much easier to have a wand, it is not required. It is a will of the Fabric, of the Soul, to extend oneself into another form. So we began our attempts. Midway through that first year we began to get results. The wings came in, smaller at first, frail and weak. But they were there. After that, it was only a matter of time before we could do this." She gestured absently at her own set of wings. "But that's as far as it went. We could never do any more. I still don't know why. And since we never completely Transfigured ourselves into what I assume would have been a Dove and a Raven Animagus, respectively, we never had the opportunity to escape. It wasn't until this last summer that our Mother died. She got totally trashed on something or other and, in Her hideous state, attempted to use our wands. For what, I'm not sure. But She must have mispronounced something serious because, next thing we know, She's lying dead on the floor with our wands in Her hands. We didn't even check Her pulse, we just grabbed the wands and fled. Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, tracked us down and pried the story from us with a few hugs." Dove heard the dissatisfied amusement in Raven's voice. Until Dumbledore had shown up, they had declared that they would never speak of the events to anyone again. But at the first hint of sympathy from their beloved Headmaster, they'd cracked.

Raven was sucked into oblivion for a few minutes before Draco cleared his throat and jolted her back. "So...how is it that you're here...if you're not here?" He stumbled over the idea, but finished the question.

"Well, Dumbledore offered us a place to stay and the opportunity to complete our education. He lent us a Time-Turner. We came back to about middle of this summer. Just before term started, we got a letter which, for all purposes, seems to have been written by our father before he died. It was the poem about the Winged Serpents. We talked to Dumbledore about it and found out what we told you." She let out a huge sigh, glad to have finally gotten it all out of her system. "So that's it. We're seventeen-year-old ex-prostitutes from the future who have fifteen-year-old counterparts in some other part of the country right now and have weird magical abilities that make us the figures of a prophetic poem that appears to have been Seen over a hundred years ago. Aren't you just sick of that cliché?"

Draco smiled weakly at the two girls in front of him. They smiled back before re-Transfiguring the wings away and sitting down.

"So anyway," Dove said. "We figured that you could...erm...put in a good word for us with your father. Tell him about our "experience" with men, see if he isn't interested. Hopefully, sort of, he'll take us back to your house and up to his rooms. House-elves and whores...we should fit in." Draco looked down but said nothing. "Once there, we should be able to sneak away to your mother and heal her for you. It's sort of a slap-dash plan, but it's all we've really got to go on right now."

Draco stared at her, disbelieving. "After all of that, you're going to subject yourself to _my father_ just to heal my mother for me? But why?"

"Because, Draco, I think that's why we're here."

***


	7. Unspoken Conversations

Disclaimer: oh, come on. as if you don't already know. if you see a name and you think "hmm, that seems familiar" then it belongs to Rowling. if you see a name and you think "what the hell?" then it's mine. have fun.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Seven: Unspoken Conversations

***

Snape paced back and forth across his office. The fireplace burned brightly, flickering, casting shadows upon the walls. It was a quarter 'til eight, they would be here any minute. He glanced over at his desk, searching for some sort of enlightenment. He knew he had to speak to them, but he hadn't the slightest idea what to say. Scanning the room for anything that might give him an edge on the situation, he finally settled into the chair behind his desk. Unconsciously tracing the carvings on the arm of the chair with his pointer finger, he waited.

At precisely four minutes after, he heard a tentative knock at the door. This was followed by some muffled dialogue and then a much stronger knock on the door. He sat up at his desk and straightened his arms out before him, interlacing his fingers and doing his best to look as if he was in complete control. Muttering a brief "Enter" he allowed his eyes to linger near the door.

Raven opened the door and marched inside, walked right to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk and sat, waiting. Dove took much more time. She glanced at him quickly before entering, then shut the door softly behind her and approached. She gave a long glare in Raven's direction, but finally sat when the other girl refused to acknowledge her. Snape noticed that she was making a distinct effort to keep her eyes on his hands, whereas Raven seemed to be staring straight through to the back of his skull. Both unnerved him.

A full minute and a half passed without a word. Finally, Raven got fed up and spoke.

"So, what did you need, Professor? I hope this isn't about the little incident with the Tricky Tarot cards, because I have to tell you…that was all me." She grinned broadly, proud of what she obviously found to be a great achievement. "Well, I mean, the Weasleys did help a bit, but it was entirely my idea. So if there's going to be anymore punishment, I expect to be able to take full credit."

Snape barely controlled the snickers that threatened to burst forth, but his lips did twitch up a few centimeters. He'd heard about that little prank, and had been rather impressed, frankly. He'd never been too fond of Professor Trelawney or her field of magic, and was always amused by Raven's little jokes. She wasn't quite as infamous as the Weasley twins, of course, but she had her moments. "No," he said, "This isn't to do with that. Although it was rather ingenious to mix in that little Twitching Charm. She kept winking at Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary. Rather threw the poor woman off her game, I daresay."

He was surprised to be rewarded by a small chuckle from each of the girls. He was always surprised when they laughed at his remarks, no other students had ever had the gall to do so before. Although he was quite sure that if any other student had dared, he would immediately have made them regret it. But from these two…he'd never seemed to find. He'd actually sometimes found himself _trying_ to elicit a little smile from them. Yet another strange symptom he should have to look into.

"No, this is about…you two. And your newfound responsibilities." Both girls immediately sobered and looked up at him. They each nodded, and he continued. "Headmaster Dumbledore has filled me in on the details," At this, both girls winced, although he was unsure why. "…and I thought it best to discuss it with you. But first, I'd like to know…Where did you learn Animergency?"

A quizzical look flashed briefly across Dove's face before she sank into deep thought. Raven merely looked ahead at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"An emergency? Wait. What's an emergency? What's going on?" Raven pummeled him with the questions, one after the other, and sat tensely for his reply.

"No, not an emergency. Animergency. As in, the act of Animergence. Your wings, how did you get them?"

"Ohhhhhhh, I gotcha," Dove let out. "The wings. Animergence, huh? Never heard of it. We were just trying to develop some Animagus abilities, but we got stuck at the wings part. Never got any further than that. We figured we just screwed something up. But you're saying we actually did something else right? Cool." She shrugged and grinned over at Raven. The two looked at each other intensely for a few moments, and Snape got the strange feeling that they were somehow communicating on another level.

As they stared at each other, Snape finally took the time to look them over. They seemed…much older than he remembered. _The last couple of months have worked wonders for them_, he thought vaguely. _They don't look like they're fifteen, they could easily pass for college students_. Snapping back, he chastised himself for his crude thoughts. He growled softly at himself and tried to focus. Moments later, the girls turned back.

"Sorry, 'Fess, but what exactly is Animergency then?" Raven now.

"Animergency is the rare ability to Merge parts of your body into a new formation and Transfigure them for a new structure. One might gain the hind legs of a cheetah, or the eyes of a hawk, or even the antennae of some insect.  However, it is extremely difficult. Most people can barely attain a state of successful Animagus. But once they are able to grasp onto the full concept, it comes easily. The entire body and mind are Transfigured, so it is easy to obtain. It is an extension of the Soul. Animergence, however, is more tricky. It is not an extension of the Soul, but of the Mind. It requires a great deal of concentration and skill to retain those parts which emerge. While neither gives you the choice in what develops, Animergence has the distinct disadvantage that one usually cannot control it. If someone were to glue an extra arm onto you, do you think you would be able to use it?" Both girls shook their heads emphatically. "So it is with Animergence. It is very rare that anyone is able to achieve, more less actually manipulate their new appendages. Which is why I find it so fascinating in you two. You are both extremely young to have managed such a feat of magic, and the fact that you can actually utilize your wings is near incomprehensible."

The two girls stared at him, wordless, for a few long seconds. "Oh," said Dove finally. "Cool."

Snape narrowed his eyes at them. "Cool, Miss Thomas?"

"Aw, come on, 'Fess. Admit it, if you had wings too, you'd think it was cool," Raven argued. She gave him her best "I-dare-you-to-disagree" look. He merely sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Ha. Thought so." She also leaned back, but with more satisfaction. "That wasn't all you wanted to talk about, was it?"

Snape straightened again and debated. He couldn't honestly think of anything else to say, but he didn't particularly want them to leave either. He was so used to solitary nights in his office, he felt it was rather a nice change to have…_Company_, he sniffed. _I have compan_y. _Next thing you know, I'll be hosting cocktail parties and telling pathetic jokes while Minerva sings karaoke._ He grinned inwardly at the thought. He decided not to keep them any longer under the guise of premeditated discussion. But he allowed himself to at least leave it open to them. _If they choose to stay, I won't argue._

"No, I suppose that is all. But I will warn you that Professor McGonagall may be asking for a few moments of your time later in the week. Animergency has always been a personal interest of hers, no doubt she'll want to bombard you with questions. Otherwise, I have nothing left to say at the moment. But if there's anything you'd care to discuss…" He left the question open and waited for their answer. He fully expected a quick refusal followed by frenzied footsteps out the door, but a smidgen of his brain hoped they might stay.

"Actually, we were sort of wondering something…" Dove said hesitantly. Snape beamed mentally, but only nodded his head to encourage her on. "Erm…we just wanted to know if…you aren't disappointed, o-or angry with us, are you?" The two pairs of pleading eyes made Snape's breath catch at the back of his throat. _Dumbledore was right. They were worried I might disapprove._

"Silly girl, of course not." _Gah, how did I hit Bastard mode so quickl_y? he thought angrily to himself. He spoke again, this time more softly. "Of course not. I think you have both handled yourselves extremely well under the circumstances. However, that is not to say that you may slack off in any way. I expect you to keep your minds open and attentive. This is not an excuse to start screwing around. Understood?" Both girls beamed at him, unable to hide their enthusiasm at his easy acceptance. Before he knew what had happened, he found himself grinning back. It was rather awkward for him, as he was not used to such displays, but he found himself quite incapable of subduing it once it had begun.

Rather abruptly, both girls stood up. "Thanks, Professor," said Dove.

"Yeah, thanks. Really." Raven's eyes glittered.

"We ought to go, though. Curfew's coming up. Goodnight, Professor." Dove waved feebly in his direction before turning and walking to the door. Raven gave her own small nod before following. Snape watched them leave and shut the door behind them. He waited a few moments before setting the wards, and then got up to head for his rooms. As he went about his normal nightly routine, he tried to think back to the last time that someone other than Dumbledore had wished him a good night. He fell asleep that night unable to think of a single instance.

***

"Heart, can I ask you something?" Raven had a strange curious look on her face, which Dove was unused to. It gave her a strange nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew what Raven was going to ask, but couldn't decide how she should answer. Throwing a few ideas about in her head, she finally came to the conclusion that, if Raven did go ahead with this train of thought, she could always disguise the truth. She could never lie to her, she would feel it immediately, but she would be able to veil it just enough that Raven might let it go.

"Alright. Of course, anything you want to know." She stopped her movement and kept her eyes on the ground. She flinched when Raven spoke, but managed to keep her breathing normal.

"Why were you so quick to trust Draco? I mean, it was my idea to tell him, but even I had a few apprehensions. You just gave in so quickly. Is something going on between you two?" Raven stared wholes through Dove. She watched as her sister straightened up and sat down on her bed. She seemed to be trying to decide what she should say.

"Well, if you're implying that Draco and I are romantically involved, then no. I could never see him that way, nor the other way around I'm sure. Besides, Drew would kill us both." She threw a weak smile in Raven's direction and tried to distinguish her emotions. Would she let it go now? The gently push of her gaze quieted that thought quickly. No, she must continue. "Look, I just trust him, that's all. I-I'm not sure why. It's difficult to explain. I just…I feel like I've known him for a long time. And I've never really had any reason _not_ to trust him." She gave one last pleading look in Raven's direction.

Raven sighed loudly, giving in. "Alright. I suppose if that's all I can get out of you, then that will have to be enough. Finish getting ready for bed." Raven stumbled into her own ragged nightclothes and pulled back the sheets on her bed. "You know," she began, looking down at her old nightie, "These nightgowns really are crap." A muffled laugh came from Dove's immediate direction as she struggled to change into her own nightgown. "No, really. They're horrible. We should get ourselves some new things next time we drop into Hogsmeade, you think?" Dove nodded her head urgently and jumped into bed. Moments later, they were both snoring.

***

"Hey, Chris! Chriiiiiiis. Cha-risss. CHRIS! Chrischrischrischris-"

"What?!" Chris looked up from a heavy game of exploding snap to look at Kello. While his back was turned, Fred and George hastily made a few "improvements" to the game in their favor. "What do you want? Jeezy Chreezy."

Kello stalked over to him and placed herself between him and the Weasley twins. She straightened out her hair and settled herself down. Giving her best "now-this-is-serious-so-don't-interrupt-and-say-something-funny-because-I'll-laugh-and-get-distracted-and-won't-be-able-to-continue" look. It was a very difficult look to master, but Kello had it down. "Chris, have you noticed anything weird about the twins?"

"Yeah, they've been cheating with a lot less difficulty lately. They must have been practicing over summer." He kept his face straight in case she decided to take him seriously. Which she did.

"Chris! I'm serious! You know I'm talking about the Thomas twins, so come on. Do they look different, or seem different, to you?" She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to force the importance of the matter onto him.

"No, they seem the same as they ever did. I mean, sure, they look a bit older, but it's been two months since we've seen them. That does happen, you know. They seem just like themselves, as far as I'm concerned." He narrowed his eyes right back, and even went so far as to cross his arms in front of his chest. He raised his eyebrows slightly to see if she would try to continue the conversation. She looked at him, curious, then sighed and got up.

"Alright. If you're sure…"

"I am. Now, if you don't mind, my fist has an appointment with Fred's face, and he's never tolerated tardiness." He gave a low mock-growl and balled his hands in a semi-threatening way as he turned towards the two redheads across from him. They mustered up a few stray innocent looks and attempted to keep from laughing as Kello turned away from them all. She wasn't entirely convinced, but decided to let it go. If something happened, she would be ready. But there was no need to raise any baseless suspicions. She headed out of the Gryffindor common room and made for the library. _I'll just have a little chat with Alex. He'll know what's what._

***

In the library, Alex was already occupied. Drew was sitting across from him and they were both very deep into their conversation.

"So that's it, is it? Are you sure?" Alex's disapproval was thinly veiled behind disbelief. What Drew had proposed made a rather grudging sense to him. Everyone (excluding the twins, apparently) had known of his affections for the past year or so, but he'd never made an obvious move. So it should have come as no real surprise. 

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm really sorry, Alex. But I thought you ought to know. I've noticed them staring at meals, but I wanted to be sure. I caught them talking to him earlier. I don't think they're aware that I overheard them, but I suppose it's better. I expect they wouldn't want it getting out, considering who it is." He gave Alex a meaningful look. Thankfully, it was not lost on his Ravenclaw friend, who was taking it rather better than he'd expected.

"I guess it's better that I know now. And I'm actually glad it was you telling me. I don't think I could have handled Kello's sympathetic nods and half-smiles, and Chris' jokes may have sent me over the edge. Don't worry, I won't say anything. Everyone else can find out when it's time." He looked down at his hands, studying the lines and crevices there. He'd never been a fan of Divination, and thus didn't know much about the practical application of palm-reading, but it suddenly seemed to him that his love line was looking a bit shorter than he'd remembered. Clearing his throat, he met Drew's eyes and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Besides, I don't suppose it would have been very fair to Daphne. All of that unspoken attention." He grinned as he saw Drew struggling to recall the earlier context of this "Daphne" character.

Just as realization kicked in for the poor Slyth, a familiar scuffling of feet came through the library doors. Both boys tried to clear their faces and do their best impressions of the unwavering heartthrobs that they suspected all Hogwarts students took them for. Kello marched up towards them, slighting a bit at the sight of Drew across from her favorite Ravenclaw.

"Oh. Hi Drew. I wasn't expecting you to be here. But it's just as well, probably." She studied both boys. She had the fleeting feeling that they had just had a serious conversation and were trying to dissuade her from considering it. But these were two of the least likely people she could think of to be actively involved in any form of serious banter. Especially with one another. "Erm…Have either of you noticed anything strange about the twins lately? Chris said no, but I doubt he's really been paying much attention. You two are the people-watchers, what do you think?"

Drew and Alex looked at each other quickly, their expressions murky and unreadable to anyone but each other at the moment. Finally, Drew looked up at their friend and spoke. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. You know how those two are. Weird is normal for them." Alex managed an amused nod. Kello gave them both a curious expression of her own invention, but reluctantly dropped the subject.

"Ok. But you two really ought to be heading back to your dorms, it's almost curfew." The boys gathered the few things they had with them and the three left the library without another word.

***


	8. A Triumphant Loss

Disclaimer: uhm...mostly not mine. but some of it is. if it doesn't appear to be mine, it probably isn't. if it reminds you of something of your own, then i hope (for my own sake) that i didn't steal it and that we're both just very creative in similar ways. otherwise, sorry about that.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Eight: A Triumphant Loss

***

Severus Snape blinked maliciously. It isn't easy for a person to put malice into a blink, but Snape managed. The sun was glaring down onto the Quidditch pitch and he was getting a little sick of waiting. Patience, while a handy virtue he could normally command, was not a natural ability for him. If the Captain hadn't personally invited him to attend the Slytherin tryouts, he would have been quite content to grade exams in his office. _Well, not content. But at least I wouldn't be so edgy_.

Finally, a whistle blew below, signaling the end of the Keepers' quarter. Each group of players (Keepers, Chasers, Beaters, and Seekers) were given a quarter of an hour to face off against each other and compete for a spot on the House team. Snape had already sat through the Chasers and Keepers, and now it was time for the Beaters to duke it out. He watched as a line of students marched toward the center of the pitch, brooms in hand. He noted, with a bit of wry amusement, that Goyle and Crabbe were trying out again. _However prejudiced Slyths may be, at least they choose skill over political status on the Quidditch pitch_. Next to those lumps of barely-harnessed magic stood Devon Ryle, and beside him..._The twins. Ah yes, of course. How could I forget? What did Maxim call them...our Unbeatable Beaters?_

His eyes picked up a bit more action now, as he surveyed the field with renewed interest. Their Captain, Marcus Flint, marched towards them. The hopefuls stood in silence as they received their instructions. They would sort out into pairs and go against each other. Each pair would be responsible for keeping themselves intact, while trying to knock the other pairs off their brooms. Anyone who hit the ground before fifteen minutes were up was immediately disqualified, as well as their partner. Those remaining at the end of the quarter would be considered.

Crabbe and Goyle immediately shook hands, as did Raven and Dove. _Hmph. No surprise there_. Devon Ryle matched up with another Fifth Year, a boy named Fayden Adderson, and a couple of sneering Fourth Years, Tenebru Bole and Philip Derrick, growled at their own unwilling twosome. The four pairs stood in a sort of square and mounted their brooms. Waiting for the whistle and the release of the Bludgers, they all stood with bats in clenched hands. The fierce determination seemed to wash over each of their faces. Even Snape could feel his face grow taut with intensity, near-sinister anticipation taking hold. Let's see what they can do.

The whistle screamed across the pitch. Four Bludgers were released, and everyone took to the air.

***

Raven immediately went after the first Bludger she could find. She zeroed in on it and whacked it as hard as she could in Crabbe's direction. It slammed hard into his arm, but he held on and whisked away from her. Behind her, Dove was tracking her every move, scanning for any possible signs of danger. After a moment, she saw a Bludger racing towards Raven from Devon's direction. She put on a bit of speed and easily disrupted its course, bumping it away in no general direction.

For the first few minutes, both girls were content to let the physical exertion sweep over them and fuel the way. Raven happily smacked any and all offending Bludgers towards whoever was unfortunate enough to be nearest. Dove trailed along after her, batting away unsuspecting Bludgers, with no regard as to where she sent them as long as they left she and her sister alone. The two girls were having no trouble at all, it seemed as if their relentless practice over the past two years had indeed paid off. But somewhere near the ten minute mark, something changed.

Suddenly, all four Bludgers seemed to be making their way towards the twins with undaunted persistence. One after another, the Bludgers raced towards them, no clear break in sight. Dove flitted back and forth in an effort to slow the onslaught, and Raven ground all of her anger and confusion into her muscles, forcing accuracy into every stroke. As she sent another Bludger towards the fourth year girl in front of her, it finally dawned on her. Looking around herself, she saw that the other six Beaters had formed a circle about her and Dove. _They're ganging up on us_, she thought bitterly. _Those bastards are ganging up on us!_

_What?! What do you mean they're ganging up on us? _Dove was so focused on the Bludgers which threatened to overwhelm them, she had not yet had time to notice the corrupt strategy that the others had adopted against them.

_They're trying to beat us out of the competition. They don't want us to win. Look around you!_ Raven's thoughts were angry and disgusted. She would not be happy when all of this was over.

Dove noticed a stray Bludger heading towards her sister and batted it out of the way. As she did, she took the time to really look up and around. Forming a sort of triangle around her were the three pairs of Slyths. They were just hovering in midair, returning each Bludger easily. On each of their faces was a look of impending victory. Dove's face turned abruptly at the sight. Her eyes clenched momentarily in dismay. But she forced them open again as she was caught on the leg by a Bludger. Her broom shook momentarily, but she regained her balance and fought on. With a renewed determination, she began to effectively combat every Bludger that sailed their way.

But she was getting tired. Nearly thirteen minutes of rigorous bombardment, and the last three or so almost entirely aimed in her direction. She glanced up at Raven and saw the same weariness beginning to melt into her. Dove exploded with fury as another Bludger managed to tip her sister on the side of the head. As she looked on, her inattentiveness allowed another Bludger to whack into her arm...and she dropped her bat.

_Oh shit!_ She scanned frantically around herself, for any sign of possible escape. But all she saw were those determined faces. Raven noticed her sister's distress and flew closer.

_Dove! Fight them off!_

_I can't, came the weak replay. I dropped my bat when a Bludger hit my arm._

Raven cursed inwardly. _Alright, don't worry about it, just stay close. There shouldn't be much time left. Gimme a few seconds and I'll try to fly us closer to the ground_. Raven maneuvered around to position herself between Dove and Devon as he seemed to be causing the most damage out of all of them.

They don't even care which of them gets it, do they? Just so long as it isn't us. They want us off the team that bad. Dove's sad announcement tweaked at Raven, but she focused on the dangerous air around them. She fended off two Bludgers and managed to knock Fayden a bit, but ended up taking a Bludger herself. She grabbed onto Dove's broom for support and hefted the bat around to knock another Bludger away. As she did, she forced her broom to cooperate and lower itself a few feet at a time.

Slowly, the girls made their way to the bottom of the field, the malicious group of Slyths still surrounding. Raven glanced up at Flint, struggling to keep her balance. Why is it taking so long? She tried to force the question onto her face, but she received only a blank look in reply. Just as she turned to face down Bole once more, a Bludger caught her directly in the back of the head. Her neck cracked angrily as she was uprooted from her broom. Dove grabbed at her arm, but she was already leaning too far over. Both girls tumbled off into the open air.

As they fell the twenty remaining feet to the ground, they could hear cheering echo abruptly from the area they had just occupied. And as they hit the ground, a whistle blew.

***

Snape watched in outrage as the group of scattered Slytherins suddenly began to form a mutated ring around the twins. _What are they up to?_ He kept his eye on Ryle, who appeared to be the one orchestrating the moves. Each of them began to slightly alter their hits and began to slowly direct the Bludgers into the two girls. It wasn't an abrupt change, but it took Snape off-guard nonetheless. _Raven! Dove! Look around you! You've got to get out of there!_ he thought frantically. But his face remained impassive and resolute.

He watched, helplessly, as six students and four Bludgers attacked the two girls. He flinched each time Raven or Dove was struck, but his face was empty. He gasped inwardly when he saw Dove lose her bat and sway powerlessly, but his eyes showed no recognition. It wasn't until a Ryle sent a Bludger into the back of Raven's already-bloodied head that he stood. His body barely able to contain the anger that shook within him, he stared on and saw as both girls were pulled off their brooms. He stared on as the six remaining students hopped around on their own brooms and flew victorious loops. He stared on as the whistle finally shrieked and the two girls slammed into the ground with a heavy thud. He stared on as nobody else made a move towards the two unmoving bodies crumpled on the grass.

Then he broke into a run.

***

Dove awoke to an array of sweets and cards on a bedside table. Glaring lights burnt into her eyes and she rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyelids to relieve them. She sat up and looked around her. She was in the infirmary. Slowly, she took everything in. Half-eaten chocolate frogs lay in empty boxes beside her. A stack of cards and short rolls of parchment lay beside her on the bed. Raven remained asleep in the bed to her left, an Madame Pomfrey was scooting towards her with an array of colorful vials.

"Oh, good good good. You're awake. Perhaps now Severus will stay in his dungeons. How do you feel?" She reached forward with a tube of pinkish potion and gave it to Dove. "Just a Pepper-Up Potion. Drink up, it'll bring you to your senses."

Dove slowly took the tube and slugged it down. In moments, she was wide awake. She fixed her eyes on the medi-witch in front of her and cleared her throat. "I'm fine, thank you. What happened? And what were you saying about Professor Snape?"

Madame Pomfrey adjusted herself on the bed and proceeded to murmur a few things with her wand pointed at Dove. After a few moments, she gave a satisfied sigh and refocused her gaze on the girl. "Well, apparently there was a bit of an accident at tryouts. You and your sister had a nasty fall. A broken wrist each, some minor concussions, and a scad of cuts and bruises. The wrists are healed, and the concussions are taken care of. I sealed the cuts for you, but the bruises will just have to fade on their own, I'm afraid. You should be alright in a few hours." The nurse got a mischievous glint in her eyes as she continued. "As for Professor Snape...he's the one that brought you both in. Somewhat of a hurry, matter of fact, for such slight injuries. Seemed quite anxious to hear of your prospective conditions. Insufferable man bothered me every hour, on the hour, wanting to know if you were awake, if you needed anything."

Dove found herself grinning uncontrollably at the thought. "How'd you finally get rid of him?" she asked.

"I didn't, actually. Headmaster Dumbledore did. Convinced him it would be best if you two were left to rest. He didn't seem too keen on the idea, but he's stayed away. Actually, I should probably notify him that you're awake. Set him at his ease." Madame Pomfrey grinned back and gave Dove a knowing squeeze on the arm. A few thoughts cluttered into Dove's head though, and she took a few steadying breaths before asking any questions.

"Madame, how long have we been unconscious? And is Raven okay?"

"Oh, only a day or so. Don't worry, it's only Sunday night. You should be right as rain for classes tomorrow. And Raven will be fine. She's in good shape. Only has the few bruises I mentioned. Nothing to worry about." Madame Pomfrey got up and headed over to another patient at the farther end of the room to administer the rest of her potions and elixirs. Dove turned and saw Raven fluttering her own eyes. She conveyed the new information to her sister and leaned back.

_So, he seemed worried then?_ Raven questioned.

_Seems like it, yes._

_I wonder..._

_I know._

Dove grinned at her sister and lay back down. With thoughts of her Potions master misting around in her mind, she relaxed into a gentle nap.

Raven watched her sister drift off before looking up at the figure now hovering above her. "Oh! Professor! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." Her eyes wandered over the man in front of her. He was dressed in the same full black robes, his hair as greasy as ever, his skin weathered down. But he seemed...unwound. "Are you alright?" she asked awkwardly.

He seemed startled at the question, but straightened himself out before she had time to think about it. He glanced around the room surreptitiously before answering her. "Yes, I'm fine. Although, I was under the impression that you were the ones currently under Madame Pomfrey's medical surveillance, not I." He nodded towards the sleeping girl opposite her and then back again, a discreetly questioning look in place.

"Oh, we're fine. A few bumps and bruises, nothing more. She was awake a minute ago, but she never passes up the opportunity to sleep." Raven grinned at the figure before her. His seemingly controlled persona seemed to have lessen slightly. It was hardly noticeable, but Raven could detect it in places where no one else might be able to. He did not return the smile, but his eyes softened in exchange. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any sound could leave his mouth, four jostling students clambered into the room. Chris, Kello, Alex, and Drew rushed to Raven's bedside, babbling excitedly.

Raven raised her eyebrows at them and shifted her eyes towards Snape. The four looked up, starting considerably at the sight. Fear emptied into the eyes of the two Gryffindors as they realized that it was very possible that they had just interrupted the dreaded Potions professor. His gaze swept over them, as cold as ever. He turned back to Raven and gestured slightly at her sister.

"Well then, I assume you will both be in fit condition to attend classes tomorrow?" He retained absolutely no mark of the near-emotion she had just witnessed. She searched his face, but found no remains. It was only woven into his Fabric that she found her relief. She sighed slightly and gave the affirmative answer she found most appropriate. He glared once more at the offenders beside her bed before stalking out.

Raven watched him go, her shoulders sagging a bit as the door slammed behind him. But she had no time to regret the occurences before her friends jumped back into full Recount mode. She settled her eyes and braced herself for a long evening of new rumors, old gossip, and retold jokes.

***

The next day, after classes were finally out of the way, the two girls found themselves moping towards the Slytherin common room. On any other occasion, they might have been racing along with everyone else, but their hearts weren't in it. Team rosters would be posted today.

They sauntered into the oversized dungeon room and casually approached the bulletin board. They had no doubt that their names would be conspicuously absent from the list. Everyone knew that they had been disqualified as soon as they hit the ground. But they were still curious as to who they would be forced to root for this year.

Pushing through the heavy throng of optimistic and curious Slytherins, they jostled their way up to the front and looked at the boards. Tacked into the center of it was a sheet of parchment written in green ink. It read as follows:

**_Slytherin House Quidditch Team_**

**Seeker**

Draco Malfoy

**Chasers**

Marcus Flint (Captain)

William Montague

Patrick Warrington

**Beaters**

Dove Thomas

Raven Thomas

**Keeper**

Darbin Bletchley

The two girls stared in confusion. All around them, students were whispering and muttering. What was going on? From behind them came a thick grumbling. Devon Ryle pushed to the front and glared at the Thomas' with mayhem in his eyes. He let out a tiny smile of satisfaction as he turned to the list. He shoved a finger at the parchment and followed it down the page to the Beaters' listing. But his smile faltered when he read the names. He too stared at the scrawling in disbelief. Suddenly, his eyes froze over and he turned back.

He shoved Dove backwards into  Second Year and grated his teeth. "How did you do it, hmm? Did you threaten him? Did you-" But he was interrupted by a loud voice from his right.

"Cut it out, Ryle." Marcus Flint pushed his way up and in between Dove and Devon. "They didn't make me do anything. They didn't threaten me or anything of the sort. I chose them because they were the best. Get over it." Marcus was every bit as strong as Devon, plus two years older, so he had no fear of intimidation. He dared the boy to challenge him, but no challenge came.

"But they were disqualified," Ryle whined.

"No, they weren't. The whistle went off just before they hit the ground. So technically, they were safe. Although, I probably would have chosen them over you anyway. Disqualified or not." Ryle threw an angry glance at Marcus, but recovered quickly at the Seventh Year's sudden flare of temper. "They managed to battle of four Bludgers and six other Beaters by themselves. Your lousy attempt at showing them up only proved their superiority. Now, get out of my sight." The command was low and quiet. But there was no question of power here. Devon looked down in humility and began to walk away. But just as he passed Dove's side, he muttered into her ear.

"You'll pay for this."

She and Raven both turned to look after him, but he was lost in the crowd. They celebrated along with the others that night, but the words rang in both their heads, unwilling to let them be.

***

In his own rooms, Severus Snape was also struggling with thoughts. _"Are you alright?"_ He turned pieces of the brief conversation over in his mind, examining each word. _It's as if she can see right through me_, he thought. A shudder ran through him. _I rather hope not. No doubt she would be frightened out of her wits at the sight_. He sighed heavily and paced the room. There would be no sleep for him tonight.

***


	9. Chance Meetings

Disclaimer: all bow to j.k. rowling, queen of all you survey. unless that which is surveyed doesn't seem familiar. if something that you survey strikes a wary cord of unfamiliarity, then i am the reigning monarch. let it be duly noted that if you bow to me, you will go down in the book o' cool. number of residents within said book o' cool presently stand at: three. (not very impressive, but i'm a new matriarch, so cut me some slack.) hmm...this isn't turning out to be much of a disclaimer, is it? oh well. let's hear it for the cool cats who reviewed! huzzah! we now return to the regularly scheduled chapter...

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Nine: Chance Meetings

***

Later in the week, after Dove had fixed Raven's nicks and cuts (gradually, as it might otherwise have garnered a bit of unwanted attention), and had fully recovered from her own untreated scratches, the two received a short note from Professor McGonagall requesting a meeting. Dove and Raven both admired Professor McGonagall greatly, as she was one of the leading experts in the magical field of Transfiguration. And as Transfiguration was such a favorite with the girls, it was only right that the Gryffindor Head of House also be a favorite.

The meeting was put off until the middle of the week due to a few late essays that the professor had to grade. But early Wednesday evening, the girls found their way to the Transfiguration corridor and headed into the quiet classroom. Stepping inside, they noted the rich solitude that usually failed to permeate the unruly Fifth Year classes. McGonagall was sitting at her desk at the farther end of the classroom, apparently running over a scrap of parchment or two. The girls approached cautiously, not wishing to disturb her. They made their way to the front of the class and perched themselves on the student desk closest to the professor.

_So, what do you think we should tell her? Surely, she doesn't know everything. What if she asks too many questions? _Dove wondered to Raven.

_If she asks too many questions, we'll dodge like we always do. But we'll tell her as much of the truth as we can. No reason to tangle ourselves any further right now, especially not with her._

_Do you think she knows that we know why she asked to meet us?_

_Hmm...I'm not sure._ Raven got a curious light in her eye, and Dove smiled involuntarily. Her sister was up to something. Something small perhaps, as it was McGonagall, but still...

Professor McGonagall set down the parchment and looked up. She smiled graciously and removed her glasses to look over the two girls. Ruffling through a few papers, it was clear that she was trying to conceal her enthusiasm for the subject that she was about to broach. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Raven jumped in.

"So, shall we show you what we can do?" Her eyes glittered with triumph at the utter look of surprise that conjured itself onto McGonagall's face.

"But- How did you...how did..." McGonagall took a deep breath and steadied herself, then continued. "How did you know that was why I wanted to speak to you?"

Raven grinned at Dove. "Well, we had our suspicions. You are the Transfiguration professor, after all. Surely, you must have some interest in Animergence."

Once again, Professor McGonagall's eyes shot up with wonder. But this time, she refrained from her stuttering questions. "Yes, quite right." She looked both girls up and down, taking in every aspect of them. She fixed her eyes in concentrated effort and forced herself to speak. "May I, then? May I see you do it?"

Raven nodded her head slightly in agreement. Dove noticed the unspoken question also directed at her and proclaimed quickly, "Well, of course you can. We'll show you and then you can ask us whatever you'd like. I'll show you the back and Raven can show you the front."

Raven spoke up unexpectedly then. "Actually, perhaps I should show her the back. The black stands out better, and she'll be able to see it much easier." Dove nodded in agreement and both girls reached to remove their robes. Beneath their robes, the girls wore the usual school uniform minus one thing. Instead of the required blouse and tie, they wore regular Muggle tank tops. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in wonder, and Raven answered before she spoke. "They're tank tops. Muggle thing. Quite scandalous, really, but they're very good for the wings. Easy access, you understand. Just this once."

McGonagall nodded in understanding, and the girls threw their robes over the table behind them. They stood up casually and Raven turned her back to the curious teacher. Dove asked if she was ready and waited for the quick nod. Then, as McGonagall looked on in unmasked fascination, they began the change. It was spectacular to watch, and the professor could hardly contain the gasps that sought to escape her. She could see the intense concentration on Dove's face, her clenched hands and flexed arms. Muscles she'd never considered before were suddenly very distinct. Even Dove's chest seemed to expand slightly with each strong breath.

Her gaze shifted over to Raven to study the rest of the remarkable transformation. She could now see, thanks to the peculiar Muggle top that the girl wore, the very skin between her shoulders moving about with the shifts taking place beneath. She could see the muscles contracting and relaxing as they shifted and contorted, fixing themselves to bones that seemed to come out of nowhere. As the bones and muscles displaced and replaced each other, the shoulder blades spread further from the spine to allow two thick bones begin to extend from her back. They grew and stretched and spawned more, albeit much smaller, bones which curved off and spouted feathers. The feathers fluffed and settled a few times in rapid succession, organizing themselves over the new structure.

In less than a minute, both girls were sporting rather miraculous wing formations. Raven turned expectantly to the woman who trembled in silent appreciation. Spreading her wings to allow sitting room, she planted herself unceremoniously on the desk once more and smiled. After her sister was quietly seated next to her, she spoke. "So? What'd you think? Any questions?" For nearly two hours, the three ladies occupied the room, talking incessantly, questioning and answering, and revealing only that which could be revealed.

Dove and Raven were surprised only once during the length of the conversation, when McGonagall said something fleeting about Snape mentioning a poem years before. The two girls were immediately interested, but chose not to pursue the subject as they didn't wish for any unwanted suspicions to arise. They would just have to speak to Snape again and ask him about it. Perhaps he could finish the cryptic puzzle for them.

Afterwards, a contented Transfiguration professor excused them to their dormitory, where the two slept happily until morning.

***

The next day, after Potions, as Raven ran off to confront Fred Weasley and Chris Tofer about a rather ridiculous prank, Dove stayed behind. She waited patiently as Professor Snape demolished the Longbottom boy and sent him away in a hurry with a heavy growl. She noted the tiny hint of surprise in Snape's eyes as he noticed her lingering by the door. It was hardly noticeable, but she caught it and filed it carefully away for later reference. He straightened himself and walked dutifully back to his desk before officially recognizing her.

"Yes, Miss Thomas?" He picked at a stack of tests on his desk as he spoke, running through them quickly, scanning for any obvious mistakes.

Dove walked up to his desk, pausing momentarily before speaking. "I was wondering, sir, if you knew anything about the poem?" She braced herself for whatever reaction may come, as she was still unsure of precisely how much Dumbledore had told her Head of House. Snape's eyes glittered momentarily before cooling into a steely liquid color.

"Yes, I know about the poem." He sat in the chair behind his desk and laid his hands before him, folding the fingers into each other and preparing for her questions. For her own part, Dove retained the impressively vacant look she'd begun with, silencing the regret at his knowledge with the heartfelt optimism that he may be able to help them.

"Well, we'd like to know how it ends." At the slightly questioning look on her professor's face, she elaborated. "The last line of the poem is missing. We don't know how it ends."

Snape nodded silently, contemplating his answer. He didn't wish to frighten the girls with their future, but neither did he escape the consideration that their ignorance on the subject might prove harmful somehow. With a heavy sigh, he began to recite the poem.

"The Winged Serpents shall return/Their feathers bent and scarred/Shall carry them to seek and learn/And soften hearts long hard" He looked quickly over at Dove to ensure that she was not startled by what she was hearing. At the unchanged look on her face, he forced himself to continue. "Beware the Two of Light and Dark/They will not mercy show/But find the wound and heal the mark/For either Friend or Foe" He paused once more. The last verse seemed the hardest, as it was the verse which proclaimed their ultimate loss. But he could not, in good conscience, guard them from the truth of their fates. "The one shall feel the nightly urge/The other feel the sun/But when the moon and star converge/The Two shall lose the One" Snape flinched inwardly at the morbid conclusion, and searched the girl's face for any sign of horror or sadness. But she remained entirely impassive, as if she hadn't heard him speak at all.

Dove listened intently as he spoke, barely able to hide the nervous shakes that threatened to consume her as he began the last verse. When he spoke, she froze. _The Two shall lose the One_. The phrase threw itself awkwardly around inside her head. She was too stunned to react. She stood, unmoving, unflinching, unthinking, until she heard her name being called. She snapped back, suddenly aware that Snape's eyes hadn't left her own. But he hadn't spoken, it hadn't been his voice. She turned to see Raven bouncing about in the doorway.

"Hey, come on. I just got Fred and Chris back with a bit of help from George, he wasn't too happy about being left out of the last prank, and I want to get back to the common room before they have a chance to recover. Come on!" Her excited babbling hesitated at the empty look her sister held. "Dove? Hey, heart, what is it?" She looked, without comprehension, between Dove and Snape before piecing it together. She let out a little breath and fixed her posture. "Oh. Right," she said. Thinking quickly, she managed to erase any possible emotions that may have occupied her face before she walked over to Dove. Grabbing hold of her sister's arm, she softly nudged her toward the door. "Come on, before the boys find us."

Dove nodded solemnly and left the classroom with only a slight nod to Snape. As she exited, Raven turned back to the Professor. "Don't worry, 'Fess. I'll have her straightened out before dinner. It's just been a crazy week is all. She'll be back to her annoying self before you can say 'detention'." She forced a smile onto her face and waved before walking out the door. As soon as she was out of sight, she dropped the fake smile and ran after her sister. They had a few things to discuss.

***

It wasn't until classes were out of the way for the day that Raven had a chance to scour Dove for answers. Back in their dorm, Dove had just finished explaining the cause of her strange reaction to Raven. She was sitting on her bed, quietly trying to sort things out in her mind. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. What did the poem mean? They'll lose the One, but who's the One? Surely it wasn't either of them, was it? Did it mean that one of them would...die? She shivered involuntarily and tried to force her thoughts back into some logical semblance.

Raven, for her part, was stalking back and forth across the room. Her face was tight with emotion, her jaw clenched in anger. Her fists were extending into wide arrays of fingers and melting back into fists in rapid succession. She was not happy. As she heaved herself closer to the fireplace, she jerked a leg out and kicked at the closest chair, splintering the back. She began to mumble under her breath loudly, nonsense streaming from her lips. Dove looked on at her sister in worry. If Raven got too wrapped up in her fury...

Suddenly, there was a loud noise from the common room. Both girls looked up, confusion and wonder stealing across their faces momentarily. Raven murmured something, and the grave rage returned to her face with full force. She threw herself out the door. Dove jumped up, startled at the emotional waves that Raven was going through, and raced after her.

In the common room, a few dozen Slytherin students were gathered around the fireplace. In the center of the crowd stood two figures, a small girl in her first year...and Goyle. Dove found it strange that Goyle appeared to be on his own. She could see neither Crabbe or Malfoy egging on their compatriot. She surveyed the scene, piecing together what might have happened. Judging from the tears streaming down the girl's face, and the ragged lump of cloth that was charring in the fireplace, it seemed that Goyle had stolen the girl's stuffed animal and thrown it in. To what end, Dove could not be sure, but she _was_ sure that things were about to get incredibly awkward. Raven was pushing through the crowd straight towards Goyle.

She shoved the last few unhappy Slyths out of her way and stood in front of the hulking Third Year. Narrowing her eyes and affecting an intimidating growl, she demanded to know what had happened. Malfoy practically materialized from behind Goyle, along with the lunkhead Crabbe.

"Stupid girl was defending Potter. Said he 'seemed nice'." Malfoy affected an irritating little girl impression as he spoke. "She said he was 'a lot nicer than Crabbe and Goyle, and cuter too'." He sneered at the trembling girl. "What can I say? She was right."

The girl began her gentle sobs anew as she looked in at the soft embers surrounding her lost possession. Raven watched her, unmoved, before turning back to Malfoy.

"And who did that?" She pointed to the fireplace.

Malfoy prodded Goyle. "Goyle. He didn't appreciate the insinuations against his character."

Raven nodded. "Ah. Makes sense." She looked back at the struggling girl crouched behind her, then back at Malfoy. Shrugging her shoulders, she gave a look of "oh-well-what're-you-gonna-do" before pulling back her (extremely muscular) right arm and slamming it forward into Goyle's face. Goyle staggered back under the force of the punch before collapsing to the ground, cradling his bleeding nose. Malfoy and Crabbe looked up at Raven in terror and backed away, neither bending to assist their wounded friend. All of the other students gave a collective gasp and took a step back from the dark-haired girl.

Raven stood silent, an empty look on her face again. She stood as if nothing had happened at all. If one had walked in just then, they might have assumed she was just asking someone for help with her homework. From the back of the crowd, a muffled "Dammit, Raven." could just be heard as Dove struggled to bust through the crowd to her slightly less aggravated sister. Finally, she broke through and walked up to Raven. "Great. Nice job. Why couldn't you just hex him? But oooooooohhhh, no. You had to punch the stupid bastard. You are going to be in so much trouble."

Raven glared back at her sister. "He was being an arsehole. He deserved it." She looked up at everyone standing around her, daring them to disagree. Fortunately, most of the Slyths agreed with her anyway, without the threat she silently held over them. As she looked around her, Goyle began to stagger to his feet, ignorant fury painted across his features. Raven turned back to him just as he prepared to lunge forward at her. Raven kept still, readying herself to grab at his hands and throw him off balance, hopefully giving herself enough time to hit him again. She grabbed his forearms as he came at her, spinning him to the side. But as she reached back to gain momentum for the hit, she felt a strong hand grip her arm.

Surprised at the resistance she now encountered, she looked back. Her eyes hit upon a mass of black cloth. Raising her eyes to the source of the darkness, she found...Snape. The violent temper immediately drained out of her, but she kept her face. She made no move to lower her arm or contract the muscles he gripped so easily. She just stared into his bottomless eyes, searching for an explanation for the interruption.

"Miss Thomas. I believe you have some explaining to do," he snarled. His face gave nothing away, but his grip remained as strong as ever. Raven steadied herself beneath his gaze before speaking, unwilling that her voice might break under some fierce attention.

"I apologise, sir. I was angry. Goyle was unfortunate enough to have done something incredibly stupid while under threat of my presence just as my temper had become rather..." She struggled to find just the right word. "Rather, erm...volatile. I released my aggression with as much speed and satisfaction as I could find at hand. A sort of violently instant gratification, which, I am sorry to say, I used to delight in quite frequently when I was younger. I will try to overcome such unseemly urges in the future. It won't happen again." She looked back at Goyle's wary form, and gave a menacing stare. "I hope." Goyle shrank beneath her eyes, and she turned back to Snape.

He seemed to be judging her, the way his eyes bore into her own. She had no desire to be observed so openly without explanation, so she raised her eyebrows in hope of a response. He seemed a bit taken aback that she would challenge him for an answer, but recovered himself immediately.

"Very well." He threw his own glare at Goyle and spoke in a dangerously low tone. "Mr. Goyle, you will learn to weigh the outcomes of your actions, as well as your opponents, before proceeding with such disdain for intelligent forethought. Infirmary. Now." He returned his gaze to Raven, and lowered his voice one more notch, to the point that she nearly collapsed from the intensity of it. "And you, Miss Thomas...Fifteen points to Slytherin for your remarkably swift response. Let us hope that you are as quick mentally as you appear to be physically." He stared a moment longer, unblinking, then seemed to realize he was still gripping her arm. He released her immediately, and with a satisfying flurry of his robes, left the common room.

The rest of the students milled about in dazed conversation before heading to the Great Hall. Dove and Raven remained in front of the fireplace a bit longer, trying to sort through things. Raven found herself describing Professor Snape's touch to her sister in eager detail, unable to determine how he had exacted such a chilling response from her body. Dove nodded, in obvious agreement. After a few quiet moments, they made a hurried effort to pull themselves together and hurried off to eat.

***

Severus immediately went to his office. From his office, he walked straight to the farthest wall and muttered a few words. Tapping his finger on the wall in a strange rhythm, it turned to gray mist before him and he walked through into his private rooms. The wall solidified once more as he threw himself into a heavy chair in front of the fireplace, breathing heavily. _What the hell was that?_ he thought to himself, angrily. _I must be going out of my mind._

He thought back over the events of the last few minutes. He recalled hearing a slight commotion as he'd passed the hidden entrance to the common room and had entered on suspicion alone. Nobody bothered to turn at the sound of his appearance. When he'd noticed the scene before him, he had taken the time to soak everything in before making a move. He'd heard the last of Malfoy's remarks, and had observed the casual complacency that settled onto Raven's face as she seemed to make a satisfying decision. He'd been just as startled as the rest of them, however, when she'd slugged the Goyle boy.

His first thought had been to stop the scuffle immediately. But another, stronger, part of him was dreadfully impressed at her reaction, and wanted to know where it would go. He'd witnessed the calm look on her face as everyone had stumbled back in alarm, and was nearly tempted to smile at her bold actions. But he's restrained himself carefully, and had stepped forward when he realized that she could easily pound the boy into pulp, and might happily have done so without his intervention. He'd placed his hand on her bicep to control her, but was struck by the strength that presented itself. No doubt a result of such rigorous Quidditch training, and perhaps even flying, he worried that she might manage to pull out of his grip and hit the boy anyway. So he had immediately increased his own strength to match hers.

He'd said his piece and growled as he found necessary. But he was surprised at a couple of things. First, at the tone he'd somehow managed to take on when speaking to the girl. It was a tone he rarely used, and appeared to have some small effect on her. _It was probably just my imagination_, he thought wryly. But he could not blame the goosebumps, which had erupted on her arm as he spoke, on his imagination alone. The other unexpected bit of insight had hit him just as he had finished speaking. She had not drawn away when she'd realized who was holding onto her. Neither had she shrunk beneath his heavy gaze. She had not tried to back down, or even to one-up him, only matched him look for look. He found himself admiring the girl, and berated himself for such useless emotion.

_No wonder I had to get out of there so quickly. Another moment and I may have gone completely mad_. He grinned at his own self-deprecating humor, and cleared his head. He stood up easily and headed towards his office, then to the Great Hall. _I suddenly get the feeling that this is going to be a long year._

***

Classes ran smoothly, and Quidditch practice put the girls in an easier mood. They managed to put the poem out of their minds and focus on other things. They made a distinct effort to hang around Drew and Alex as much as possible, eager to keep their minds aimed at the frivolous and fleeting. Before long, the first Hogsmeade weekend was upon them. The six friends made plans to head down to the little town together the Friday before. Saturday morning, everyone was up and dressed and ready to go by noon. The first stop was Honeyduke's for a lunch of magical sweets.

After a bit of light roaming, the group finally decided to split up, allowing their different personalities to lead them on. Chris found his way over to Zonko's with the Weasley twins, intent on finding something suitable to use on Raven in their next Potions lesson. Alex and Kello made their way over to Dervish and Banges to search out some new quills. Drew headed off to the Three Broomsticks to have a butterbeer with a couple of handsome Slyth Sixth Years. Dove and Raven, finding themselves without any distinct purpose, decided to take a light stroll and allow themselves to enjoy the day.

As they walked, they came upon Gladrags wizardwear, and Dove suddenly made a slight noise of remembrance. "Hey, didn't we want to get some new sleeping robes?"

"Yes, of course. I'd nearly forgotten. Come on, let's see what they've got." Raven ushered her sister in ahead of her, clambering into the store with ease. Inside, they found themselves faced with every possible article of clothing in every imaginable size and color. Heading quickly past the latest dress robes and the newest shipment of designer cloaks, the girls made their way into the back left corner where the witches' sleepwear and lingerie were located. Struggling not to laugh at some of the frilly things on display, they sorted through a splendid array of sleeping robes, determined to find something they wouldn't later regret.

Raven giggled hysterically, holding up a crazy concoction of lace and ribbons that didn't give the impression of comfort she preferred. "Look at this, Dove. Who would wear this?"

Dove looked up and immediately chuckled at the sight of the strange feminine article that Raven held. "Who _could_ wear that is a better question." Both girls erupted into an endless fit of giggles, resulting in a very stern woman approaching them from the front of the store.

"Can I help you two?" she demanded. She stood with her hands on her hips, but didn't give off too much severity in her tone. The girls settled their laughter and Raven replaced the tiny negligee before speaking.

"We're sorry. We're just looking for some suitable sleeping robes. Our old ones are getting kind of worn out, and we've never really bought any for ourselves." The older witch smiled at this and relaxed her features.

"Oh, of course. Well, my name is Gilda Gladrags, I own this shop. I'd be happy to assist you both. Is there anything particular you're looking for?"

The two girls shrugged and shook their heads no. Dove scratched at the back of her neck as she began. "Not really. We just want something special. But nothing silly, like that." She pointed at the lacey thing and Raven stifled another giggle. "We don't really know what to look for though."

Gilda surveyed them both up and down. "By 'special', do you mean something you might expect someone else to see? Like  boyfriend, perhaps? Or just something comfortable you can relax in?"

The girls smiled at the thought. "Well, I don't know, really. Why not both?" said Raven. Dove rolled her eyes at the mischief that sparked on her sister's face.

"Well, then, right this way. I think I may have just the thing." Gilda pointed excitedly and hurried a bit further toward the back of the shop. "These just came in last week, I haven't even been able to unpack them yet. They aren't your usual sleeping robes, mind you. They were designed by a witch who's made most of her fortune designing clothes for Muggles, so they rather resemble a Muggle sleeping gown. But they're made out of a delightful enchanted fabric that she created call Everflowing Satin. Here, feel this." She reached into a heavy wooden box and pulled out a pile of silky cloth. Holding it up by the straps, the girls surveyed it curiously.

It was a red ankle-length nightgown, very simple in appearance, but obviously deigned to show off a witch's figure. Two slits ran up each leg, thigh-high, and the material itself appeared to be made of water. It was beautiful. Cautiously, each girl stretched out a hand to grasp the cloth, gasping at the texture. It felt like cool, melted satin. It flowed beneath their fingertips, softly and gently, igniting the senses in their fingertips. Their eyes closed simultaneously at the luxurious feeling. Abruptly, both girls reached back and snapped their eyes open.

As one, they spoke. "We'll take them."

Minutes later, they were both heading to the front register. Dove was cradling a small bundle of tailored black cloth, and Raven held a similar bundle of white. They spoke happily with Gilda as they pulled out the required galleons and passed them over the counter.

"Would you like me to wrap those up for you?" Gilda asked, delighted at her first sale of the new Everflowing Satin nightrobes.

"Oh no," said Dove quickly. "We'll just carry them like this, thanks." She smiled conspiratorially at an amused shop owner and made to exit the store. As she and Raven stepped outside however, they bumped into someone. It was Professor Snape.

"Well," cried Raven in a laughing tone, "We're just running into you everywhere."

Snape raised his eyebrows at her lack of intimidated fear, his lip twitching in a near-smile. "Yes, it appears so. Perhaps you two should pay more attention to your environs."

Dove giggled at his subtle humor. "What are you doing here anyway? Can't wait to lay your hands on the newest designer robes, eh?" Raven stifled a loud chuckle, her cheeks turning pink in good humor. Snape rolled his eyes, but failed to berate them.

"No, Misses Thomas. I was having a new Warming Charm put on my cloak for this coming winter. I suggest you two do the same." He gave a mock-glare at the two, determined to beat them out. Before he could continue, however, his curiosity overcame him. "You two seem in rather good moods, what exactly _are_ you doing here?"

"Ha, wouldn't you like to know." Dove flashed a smile at Raven, who barely contained her laughter. They continued this strange exchange of looks and understanding under Snape's curious eyes. He shrugged and shook his head at them, and they sped along down the street, giggling.

As Snape stepped forward into the shop, Dove called out over her shoulder, "Later, 'Fess! Hope that Warming Charm doesn't cause you to overheat!" Snape sighed heavily, carefully burying the smile that attempted to escape, and went inside. _I'll never understand those girls._

***


	10. Loose Connections

Disclaimer: i suppose i could say that everything belongs to me. but then i'd be lying. through my teeth. with no hope for redemption. so instead, i'll just tell you that some of it's mine, but most of it isn't. i think you can take it from there, eh?

ooh, here's a big one. thanks to michelle for pointing out my mistakes. i'm kind of dumb that way. while the fic does take place in a (barely) alternate universe, these things really weren't important and i should have left them as close to canon as possible. i won't really change much until the end. so thank you for pointing it out! i've tried to fix it as best i could, hope it's better!

A/N: ooh, i hate these, i'm no good with notes, lol. anyway, just thought i'd warn you that this won't be a terribly interesting chapter. not much happening before christmas, just trying to hurry things along. so sit tight and don't kill me yet. just for the record, the following sweet-ass people now reside in the book o' cool, so let's have a round of applause for the coolest of the cool!!!

j.l. matthews - how privileged am i?! yes, she trusted draco pretty eagerly, but there's a reason, don't worry...and a thing? between one of the twins and super-sex-god snape? nooooooooo. erm, ok, maybe. *g*

oneturnouttatune - woo! thanks, doll! too sweet.

phoewise prefect - just so you know, i was addicted to simon on american idol, so i couldn't allow myself to make long chapters. he was so cute on so graham norton! and you can have a nightie as soon as i snag one from the twins, lol. i want one too!

autumn ice - yay for favs! you're one of my favs, ha.

and now, on with the show....

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Ten: Loose Connections

***

On their return from Hogsmeade, the six friends managed to shuffle themselves over to a corner of the Hufflepuff table for the Halloween Feast. It was the one time that they really went out of their way to be together. Slytherin table was out of course, due to the Gryffindors among them, and vice-versa for the Gryffindor table. Ravenclaw, unfortunately, were like Switzerland in the U.N. – completely neutral. Which left the group (entirely devoid of any Hufflepuffs) only one choice. But at least there were no (voiced) complaints.

The meal went well, jokes were told and faces were made. But just as they were making their way out of the Great Hall, a commotion sprang up around them. There had been an attack. Alex ran off to help out with some of the younger Ravenclaws, and the Slyths were separated from Chris and Kello. Drew was uncharacteristically quiet in the face of so much mystery, and the girls were out of their minds with confusion.

During the summer, the girls had been unable to pay much attention to current wizarding events, as they were so busy preparing themselves for their frustrating return to academics. They hadn't seen the papers or heard the rumors. They didn't know that Sirius Black had escaped. So it came as quite a surprise when Drew finally took them aside.

"So what do you two think? Was it him?" Drew focused his attention on his feet, unwilling that the girls see any possible trepidation on his face. Dove and Raven glanced back and forth at one another. They didn't know how to convey their ignorance without some form of rebuke in response.

"Erm..." Dove began, "We're not quite sure yet. What do you think, Drew?" Both girls looked at their friends, searching for any hidden answers.

"I...I-I don't know. If it is true...if Sirius Black has come to Hogwarts...I don't know what I'll do." Raven's eyes fluttered open at the name, realization flooding into her. When Dove failed to grasp the meaning, she sent a few quick thoughts to her sister and straightened things out before speaking again.

"Well, erm...don't worry about it, Drew. We'll keep an eye out. There's no need to be so worried."

"It's just that I...I don't know about him. I don't know where his loyalties lie, so I can't...I-" Drew broke off abruptly, throwing a frustrated pout at the twins, and then ran off to join a group of Slythboys across the room. The girls stood, bewildered at the unforeseen reaction. Stumbling off to their own corner, they thought hastily over the situation.

_That was strange. What do you think is wrong with him?_ Dove thought.

_I'm not sure. I remember seeing news reports on Her television when She first dragged us off, but I'd forgotten about it until now. I don't even remember what happened to him in the end. Sirius Black...unbelievable._

_Yes, I remember now too. Scary-looking fellow, but no real danger to us or Drew. What do you think he meant about loyalties? What was he talking about?_

They began to pace around the room. But before Raven could answer, a hand landed softly on each of their shoulders. Turning, they saw their Head of House looking down on them. A bit of anger was flashing briefly over his face, but it disappeared before any connections could be made.

"Girls, if you don't mind," he growled, "I would appreciate your assistance. The castle needs to be searched. You should remain here with the rest of the students, but in light of recent developments, you might both be useful. If you would follow me..." He turned and walked out into the hallway. The girls looked at each other, questioning, but followed closely behind.

The search continued long into the next day, but nothing was uncovered. The girls reluctantly returned to their room to sleep, exhaustion stretching to engulf them both. _Too much is happening_, thought Dove as she drifted off. _Too much_.

***

The next couple of weeks were a blur for the girls. With hidden poetry and threats of prisoners surfacing around their heads, they had no time to pay attention to school. Raven and Dove spent most of their waking moments trying to decode the last line of the myth, or trying to figure out why Drew was acting so strangely, or trying to keep an eye on Ryle and Malfoy at the same time, or just trying to stay awake in History of Magic. With so much on their minds, it was no wonder that they were so surprised when things began to change around them.

First, they managed to get through almost an entire lesson without noticing that, instead of the new Professor Lupin, their own Professor Snape was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't until he called on Dove for an answer that it really sank in. She began to search frantically for her cauldron, her book, anything that might help her to focus her blank mind. But as she searched, she noticed the confused looks on the faces around her. Nobody had cauldrons. _Where are we?!_ she thought frantically. _Why is...oh. Oh no. DADA. But then where's Lupin?! What's going on?_

Raven quickly got the answer from a boy across from her and sent the thought to Dove. Dove blurted it out without thinking, and let out a sigh of relief when Snape nodded and continued. She spent the rest of the lesson taking furious notes, never taking her eyes off of Snape, never allowing her mind to wander off topic. At the end of class, she raced out of the class and back to the Slytherin common room. A few minutes later, Raven approached.

"Heart, are you okay?" She let her worry color her face as she spoke.

"Yes, I'm alright. I just got a little weirded out back there. I guess I haven't been paying much attention lately." She slumped into a chair by the fireplace and hugged herself warm.

"I know what you mean. I freaked when I saw Snape up there and I didn't have my cauldron. I thought he'd kill us for sure, especially when he asked me to stay after. He called for you too, but you ran outta there in an awful hurry."

"Oh? What'd he say? Is he angry?"

"No. I think he realizes how much we're going through right now. He just wanted to let us know that we won't be playing this upcoming game." Dove's head snapped up.

"What?! We're not playing?! I should have been paying more attention in class, this is all my fault!" Dove's face crumpled in despair at the ill-gotten news. Raven looked on in confusion, then realized her sister had misunderstood.

"No, no. Not just us. We aren't being punished or anything. I mean, Slytherin isn't playing. The Gryffs are going against Huff instead. He didn't say why, but I think it was just because it wasn't important for us to know."

Dove looked up slowly. She felt a little better. And she certainly appreciated the extra time. She wasn't sure she could handle a serious game of Quidditch just yet. Especially not against the Gryffs. She wanted to be able to concentrate for that game.

Dove eventually pulled herself together, and she and Raven made it through the rest of the week. Snape made for an interesting Defense teacher, and they enjoyed the change of pace. They didn't dislike Lupin, but Raven was slightly uncomfortable around him. She never mentioned anything to Dove about it, but the hesitance was in her mind, filtering its way out to her sister. They made it through classes with little excitement, and almost managed to enjoy themselves at the game.

However, as they had just begun to get comfortable, booing and hissing along with their friends, a strange quiet began to fall around them. They searched the stands for whatever it was that seemed to be causing the quiet reaction, but found nothing.  Raven stood to lean over the silent Second Years sitting in front of her, and just as she caught sight of the dark robes, Dove collapsed. Raven turned immediately to her sister, panic crashing over her. Dove was lying still, her face pale. But that wasn't what scared Raven so...it was her Fabric. It was fading.

She started to look around her. Everywhere her eyes landed, it was the same thing. Fabric was flickering, fading. Some more than others, of course. Those closer to the dark figures were much thinner than they should be. And the farther they people were from the Dementors, the stronger their Fabric held on. But she and Dove weren't that close at all, and yet Dove was reacting far worse than most. And she, Raven, didn't seem to be reacting at all. _What is going on?!_ she thought desperately. As she watched however, an object caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Something was falling...a player! The Gryffindor Seeker, Harry Potter, was falling! She watched, dazed, as he fell to the field. She heard him hit with a sickening crunch, but her eyes were distracted by his Fabric. Or rather, his lack of one.

She felt her heart caving in as she stared at the poor boy. She'd never seen a person without Fabric! What can it mean? But all at once, everything jumped into action. Staff and students ran forward, and the Dementors were forced off the field. As they retreated, slowly, Potter's Fabric faded into view. Raven let out a sigh of relief, and relaxed against her sister, who had begun to regain herself. Raven quieted her sister, managing to convince her that she must have fainted from exhaustion, and decided to keep what she had seen to herself. She didn't even notice when the crowd erupted in cheers for Hufflepuff, who had managed to win the game due to Potter's injury. For once, she didn't even care.

***

As the days peeled on, the girls managed to meet with Draco once more. After a late-night Quidditch practice, they approached him to talk.

"Hey Draco." Raven called out. He turned at the mention of his name, pulling to a stop when he saw the girls. He waited for them to catch up before answering.

"Raven. Dove. What can I do for you two?" His tone revealed nothing, but his eyes were full of questions.

"Don't worry," said Dove, "We just wanted to iron out a few things with you. Christmas is coming up, and we think it'll be best if we follow through just after classes pick back up. Less attention." Draco nodded, processing the information. "We'd appreciate it if you could do us a couple of favors. Three, to be precise." Draco nodded once more.

"Yes, of course. Whatever you need."

"Well, first of all," Raven began, "You're going to have to speak to your father, of course. Mention us. See if you can't get him interested. Don't give him any specifics, of course, but let a few things slip. Once his curiosity is sparked, tell us. We'll take it from there. Second, your mother. You'll need to speak to her as well, and you'll have the whole winter holiday to do it. You need to prepare her for what will happen. We don't need her yelling in surprise when we sneak into her bedroom, and it wouldn't look very convincing if she just happens to get better overnight while we're there. We'll heal her, and she should be better than new, but she'll have to act as if she's healing naturally and gradually. No questions that way. Last, but not least, we're going to need to know a few things about the place. Some sketched maps, names of house-elves, anything we should avoid, things like that. Take your time, and be thorough." Raven stopped for a breath and looked to Draco for confirmation. He nodded again, albeit wearily.

"Yes. I can do that, no problem." He looked at the girls again, his eyes lost in emotions they couldn't identify. "Thank you." He gave one last careful nod and then ran to catch up to Flint. The girls watched him go, tiny flutterings of sympathy reeling in their hearts. Then they threw their brooms over their shoulders and went inside.

Another Quidditch match came and went. Ravenclaw killed Hufflepuff, to Alex's delight. Holiday sheets went up on boards in classrooms and a rather small number of names appeared on them. Raven and Dove, with no other possible considerations of holiday plans, were at the top of the list. There was one last Hogsmeade trip before the entire school cleared out.

***

As they walked, they looked around, casually observing the activity around them. The quiet bustle reminded them of Christmases  when they were children, when their father would take them shopping for Her. But they were both gone now. And they had nobody to shop for anymore. Not even each other, really.

"I wish we didn't have this stupid agreement with the others. I'm just itching to buy them presents. I know exactly what I would get for them too. But nooooooo. Kello and Alex had to make up their dumb 'no presents between friends' rule." Raven muttered and mumbled, almost under her breath. Chris and Kello were packing already, getting ready for the trip home the next day. They would be spending the holiday with their families. Drew and Alex were both somewhere in Hogsmeade buying last minute gifts.

"Oh, come on, Raven. You know it makes sense. It just wouldn't be right. Kello would get something elaborately thoughtful for Chris, and Chris would have forgotten entirely. Alex would get lame presents for Drew and Chris, but spoil us and Kello. And Drew would get everyone the same thing. For our part, we'd get something special and unique for everybody, and then be disappointed when nobody else put the same amount of thought into our presents. Christmas is a mess with us, it's best just to forgo the trouble." Dove spoke calmly and rationally, which irritated Raven immensely. She scowled and walked faster.

"Yeah, I know. But I have _got_ to spend some money! And there's nothing that you or I really want, is there? Bleh, this sucks." She began to pout in a dreadfully childish way. In an attempt to smack the immaturity out of her, Dove stumbled and bumped into Alex as he exited the post office.

"Oh! Oh, hey Alex. Sorry about that." She brushed herself off before straightening Alex's cloak for him. He gave them a lopsided look, but spoke before they could question him.

"That's alright. How are you two doing? Find anything to buy yet?" Raven scowled again, which nearly made Alex break into a grin, but he held it in.

"No, not yet. Hey, what's that? Package from your parents?" She gestured towards a small brown parcel under Alex's arm. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, then dragged it out before them and broke it open.

"No. Actually, it's from my little sister. She wants me to do something to it for her. It's going to be a gift for a friend of hers. And as they're both Muggles, it'll have to be something disgracefully low-key. I don't want to get either of us into trouble." He reached inside and pulled out a length of chain. Attached to the chain was a small heart-shaped pendant. As he gripped it around the back, it slowly turned green. Both girls gasped in delight.

"Hey! It's a mood necklace! I haven't seen one of those in forever!" Raven cheered dramatically at the sight of the retro jewelry. Alex nodded and tucked it back in the box.

"Yeah, her friend's big on that retro crap. I don't know what I'll do with it though. I was thinking about putting a variation of the Cheering Charm on it, so that she'll feel better when she wears it. But it wouldn't really work, in theory, now would it? If she was always happy when she wore it, it would always stay the same color, and what use would that be?" He smiled at his own deduction and Dove giggled.

"You're right. Good thinking. Maybe a little Lucky Charm? Just a tiny one. That could be nice, hmm? And it isn't very easy to detect." Alex nodded in thoughtful agreement.

"Yes, not bad. But, ahh, I really have to go. I have to finish packing, and I'll have to Charm and wrap this up as well. So I'll see you at dinner, hmm?" He tucked away before either girl could protest and legged off to the castle. The girls watched after him for a bit before deciding they should probably head out as well.

As they walked, they scouted out clearings. They hoped there might be some opportunity to go flying while everyone was away, and they needed somewhere inconspicuous to do it. They went on in silence, crunching through the snow.

About halfway back, Dove pointed out a little spot to their right. Moving closer, they stepped into a small circle of trees, maybe forty feet across at the widest point. It seemed isolated enough.

"We should probably try it out first, eh?" Raven asked. Dove nodded, and they both removed their cloaks, murmuring quick warming spells as they did so. Standing in the middle of the clearing, the faced each other and Transfigured. Two sets of wings erupted behind them and they both smiled.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Dove asked. "It's been a couple of weeks, I rather missed it."

Raven nodded, and they both tested the clearing a bit. They walked about and spread their wings. They lifted off the ground a bit to look over the trees, checking to make sure they weren't too close to Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. It wouldn't do to be sighted. Settling back to the ground, they retracted the wings and pulled their cloaks back on. Muttering a Recognition Charm, followed closely by an incantation for concealment, they started back towards Hogwarts.

Fumbling out of the trees, they found their way back to the road. Suddenly, Dove pointed ahead of them.

"Hey, who does that look like?" Dove asked, amused. Raven looked ahead, squinting from the light reflecting off the snow. Twenty yards ahead of them, a large figured stalked forward towards school grounds. Raven glinted with surprise, then grinned ferociously. Breaking into a run, the two girls rocketed towards Severus Snape, separating one to each side of him.

Snape started on their approach, readying an effectively humbling quip for whichever unfortunate students should happen to disrupt his solitude, but forgot it when he recognized the two. He let the tense energy seep out of him and continued walking in silence. After a few gentle moments, Dove addressed him.

"Hey, 'Fess. What're you doing out here? Picking up a few last-minute gifts for the staff party?" She smiled innocently and Raven jumped in.

"Yeah, you teachers and your crazy get-togethers. I heard you've got an ear for Professor Flitwick's eggnog-inspired karaoke bouts." The girls just managed to contain their laughter as they waited for his response. He scowled at the memory of Flitwick's rendition of "The Twelve Days of Christmas". An amusing retort popped into his head, but he opted for the quicker method of denial.

"I don't know what you two are talking about. If you cannot even separate simple fact from abject rumor, I suggest you close your ears." He kept his voice at a low snarl, but left out the usual forceful malice. Dove laughed heartily as Raven began to speak.

"Ha, and if you can't separate yourself from Flitwick at that party, I suggest you do the same." Raven giggled at herself, but kept her composure in case Snape decided to rebuke her.

Snape bit his lip to keep from smiling, but said nothing. After a moment, he changed the subject. "No packages, I see. Unusual. Is it possible that you two have forgotten the purpose of your trip? I thought I recalled you mentioning in class that some last-minute shopping was in order."

Raven and Dove both quieted suddenly. They had told Chris that they still had to buy something for their Mother. It was meant to keep up appearances only. Surely, Snape knew that. _Maybe he misunderstood_, thought Dove. Raven granted the observation and wrote it off.

"Actually, we came to the rather depressing realization that we have nobody to buy for." Raven shrugged a weak smile. Snape wondered suddenly if he'd said something wrong. _Strange_, he thought, _that I should worry about hurting their feelings with a few simple words_. He tried to dig out any possible underlying meanings in what he'd said, but found nothing. Unused to the concept of comforting others, he said nothing. He was very relieved when Dove spoke more resolutely.

"Oh, I'm having an idea..." she began.

"Don't hurt yourself," Raven and Snape mumbled together. Startled, they looked at each other. Then Raven laughed. Snape followed Raven's line of sight and saw Dove glaring at them both. When he saw her, he very nearly laughed himself. When Raven quieted, Dove spoke again.

"Fine, forget it. I won't tell you." Dove jutted her jaw out and picked up her pace. Snape watched her go, his eyes glinting with quiet humor, half-tempted to fetch after her and make her keep in step. But he kept his speed and said nothing. He watched as Dove approached the stone steps to the castle and disappeared inside. Faintly, he noticed that Raven had stayed next to him rather than run after Dove. _Hmm. Not quite what I'd expected_. He turned slightly to her with the intention of asking a question, but unsure of what to ask. She glanced up, noticing, and spoke before he could muster up a logical phrase.

"Are you okay, Professor Snape?" The question caught him off-guard, just as it had the first time she'd asked. He refocused his gaze ahead onto the path and growled lightly under his breath. Debating whether he should side-step the question or just answer, he didn't notice how Raven took the time to study him intently. He didn't really have to answer her anyway, she could see the answer all over him. She glanced over his person casually, searching for specifics. She knew what she was looking for. She took everything in, then shifted her eyesight back to Snape before he could catch her. "You don't have to answer, I suppose. I don't mean to pry."

Snape steeled himself against the strange soft sense of guilt that he suddenly felt. He berated himself for not answering her. _Why shouldn't I? She isn't exactly a normal student, nor is Dove. If anyone could understand, perhaps..._ He shook himself out of the thought. _Well, I ought to say something. If I don't, she might never ask me again_. His eyes widened suddenly as he realized what he'd just been thinking. A cold shiver made its way up his spine as he considered the possibility that she might not ask him such things anymore. He shifted his thoughts and reformed them, contemplating the possibility of her asking him more often rather than less. As he did, the chill stopped, and a warmth he was unaccustomed to spread out instead. _Strange_, he thought. But he decided, for once, to go with it and just answer her. _But what to say?_

"I don't know." He cleared his throat and kept his face impassive. He was betraying enough emotion by speaking, no sense losing all control.

"Pardon?" came the flabbergasted answer. Raven had certainly not expected an answer. And if she was looking for some reply, this definitely wasn't what she'd predicted. She slowed unconsciously, as he cleared his throat. He slowed his own pace to match hers and turned to her. He glanced at her without emotion, then dropped his gaze.

"I don't know if I'm okay," he said gruffly. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay." Then, with one last empty look, he darted off into the school, leaving Raven in the snow unblinking.

***

Next Chapter: christmas at hogwarts, aww. featuring an interesting little present for snape, a run-in with ryle, tea with a werewolf, and some of flitwick's crazy carols! so stay tuned...same bat time...same bat channel! (ps – if anyone has any questions you can email me at eowowiel@yahoo.com, i love mail!!!)


	11. Hectic Holidays

Disclaimer: if you don't already know, i'm not going to tell you. (typical slyth bitch, eh? haha. yeah, right.)

A/N: no author's notes cuz i'm too lazy. i hope this chapter's better than last, there's certainly more happening. but things're definitely going to pick up soon. (ps – if you find any mistakes, tell me, and i'll be sure to fix them and will definitely give you credit!!! like michelle, who's my hero for chapter ten. lol)

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Eleven: Hectic Holidays

***

Just as she had promised, Dove had indeed had an idea. And after a day or two of resolute sulking, she gave in to Raven's incessantly nagging apologies and told her.

"Well, you were complaining so much about not having anyone to buy for...and then there was Snape being all Snape-like...and I just thought, why shouldn't we buy him a gift? He can't get very many. Besides, I think it's about time someone did something nice for him. Don't you?"

Raven nodded in silent agreement. Her eyes were glowing with enthusiasm as she warmed to the idea.

"Yes, of course! That's perfect! And I've got just the thing too!" Raven spoke quickly and eagerly, spilling every detail that she could, ironing out the little bits. After a few short hours, all aspects of the gift had been thought and rethought and eventually agreed upon. Both girls were alight with giddy energy at the enchanting prospect before them. They immediately set to work. A couple of owls were sent off to Alex and the Weasley twins, then it was off to the library.

Later that evening, the two stumbled back into their room. They had found just the spells they were looking for and had sent copies out to the Weasley twins immediately. Now all they had to do was wait for the replies. As they waited, they got ready for dinner. As there were so few students left about during winter holiday, especially with Sirius Black on the prowl, they would more than likely be sitting at a table with the faculty and whatever students were left.

After a short bout with her unruly hair, Dove finally coaxed Raven into a Detangling Charm, and they raced to the Great Hall. Decorations of every sort were strewn about in a most dizzying, but glorious, manner. In the center of the large room was one long table. Most of the staff were already seated, and a small number of students as well. Only a few seats were left, so the girls were forced to sit between Professor Sprout and Devon Ryle. Muttering at their misfortune, they made themselves comfortable and looked quietly about.

The meal was casual and had an air of intimacy about it, but the girls paid little attention to those around them, not even pretending to engage in chit-chat. With Snape on the other end of the table, and Dumbledore caught up with Professor McGonagall, they could only sigh. They had no intention of mingling with anyone below their intellectual standards. Dove picked absently at her plate, Raven feigned thirst as she played with her goblet, and neither really noticed when Ryle sprinkled a bit of orange-y powder on the last two biscuits before passing the platter to them.

Raven absently took one and placed the other on her sister's plate. She tried to start some easy conversation with the young Ravenclaw across from her, but to no avail. The girl's only interests seemed to be in make-up, fashion, and "gorgey Professor Lupin". She ceased all communication with the girl immediately. Such things were below her, and besides, she preferred not to think about Professor Lupin just yet. He made her sincerely uncomfortable, both in class and out. It wasn't the secret itself that bothered her, she'd read it in the Fabric of others before him, but it was the manner in which he kept it, as if he was ashamed. Gods knew she and Dove had more to be ashamed of than he did, but they had resigned themselves to the Fates long ago.

Trying to ward off any wandering eyes, she picked at the biscuit on her plate. Sullenly, she took a bite and chewed, preparing to excuse herself. But as she pulled herself away from the table, everything suddenly rushed away from her and she lost her balance. Stumbling over her own feet, she reached out to grab the table or her sister or anything that might anchor her, but her hands felt nothing and she fell. As her head smacked the floor, her eyes fluttered open and landed momentarily on the smirking figure of Devon Ryle.

Then everything went black.

***

Bleary-eyed, Raven reached for the glass of water next to the bed. She was in the infirmary again, Dove at her side. She'd woken only a few minutes earlier to the fussing insistence of Madame Pomfrey. A small vial filled with a creamy purple liquid was swallowed, and then the nurse had left her with her sister. Dove stared at Raven curiously, but said nothing.

"What? Stop looking at me like that." She mumbled groggily, the room still seeming to weave about lightly.

"I just want to know what happened out there. You seemed fine one minute, then the next you were crumpled on the floor. You weren't sick or I'd have felt it. So what happened then?" Her eyes betrayed her worry, but her face was a mask of annoyance.

"Ryle. He put something in my food, I think. I could see it on his face just before I passed out." Dove's eyes immediately burned with anger. She started in her chair and had to hold on to the sides with white knuckles so that she wouldn't fly out of it.

"Ryle? That little bastard! I knew he was up to something. He'd been too quiet." She seethed, spitting the words out in her fury. She began to vent her frustration in colorful obscenity, crowing about all the different ways that she would make him pay for doing this to her sister. But Raven only watched, half-amused, as her sister vented her fury. She rarely got to see Dove mad, and it warmed her to know that it was Dove's compassion for her that had caused it.

As Dove finally quieted, the door to the infirmary gently opened. In walked three tall wizards. Dumbledore, Snape, and Lupin approached quietly, all three with softly rebuking smirks on their faces as they had obviously heard most of Dove's rants down the long hallway. Dove went pink at the realization, but swallowed the apology that quaked to engulf her. Slowly, Dumbledore settled himself on the edge of Raven's bed and smiled.

"I trust you are feeling better, Miss Thomas?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm still a bit dizzy, but I'm usually a bit scattered anyway when I first wake up." She smiled weakly back at the old man and waited for him to proceed.

"I am glad to hear it." He stopped then, as if he wanted to say something but knew better, and turned to Professor Snape. Snape, taking his cue, approached cautiously.

"Miss Thomas, what happened precisely?" Raven described the events as well as she could remember them. After she'd finished, Dove looked up suddenly and spoke.

"Hold on, then. I think I remember-" _Don't mention Ryle, Dove_, Raven thrust in her head. _Don't mention him, we'll deal with it later_. Dove leered awkwardly at Raven, wondering why it should matter, but did as she bade. "I-I think I remember an orange powder on her biscuit. I didn't notice it at the time, but it seems strange to me now. I only remember because it looked sort of like one of the ingredients we've been using in Potions recently, Professor." She looked hesitantly at Snape, but relaxed when she saw a faint look of admiration trespass across his face.

"Indeed. An acute observation. If that is so, then it would explain a great deal." He paused slightly, unused to explaining himself. "The drillox dust we've been using for a basic sense-enhancing brew has a fickle property about it. When ingested by a human, it has an allergy-inducing effect. But in birds, it has the tendency to increase eyesight momentarily. It is sometimes used as an ingredient in owl treats." He gave a knowing look to Dumbledore and then the girls, before glancing at Lupin and adding, "Although it is strange that it seems to have affected you towards the latter degree rather than the former. No doubt the trespasser is just as curious about the results as anyone else. If it is as you say, Dove, then it would explain why Raven lost her balance and fell. The oversensitization of her ocular organs probably overloaded them and she may have briefly lost her conception of distance, causing a slight sense of vertigo. It should have worn off by now, however." He turned to Raven and nodded almost imperceptibly. "You should be fine in the morning."

"Well then, we'll let you rest. Sleep well, girls." Professor Dumbledore excused himself and Professor Snape followed him out without another glance. Professor Lupin, however, stayed. Inclining his head slightly at Dove, then at Raven, he maneuvered himself a bit closer to the bed, with only a slight shake to betray his recently weak state. Dove tried to catch Raven's eye so that she might know how to react, but Raven was blocking her out, physically and mentally.

"Raven," he seemed to speak only to the girl in the bed, "I think there is something I must speak to you about." Raven made no move to agree or disagree, only kept her eyes on him at all times. "Perhaps some tea?" Raven nodded finally. Lupin looked up at Dove with a questioning look. She also nodded and he moved away to conjure a tray of tea and biscuits. He poured the steamy liquid and offered it to both girls. They each hastily declined the biscuits, to his quiet amusement.

Raven waited, eyeing him suspiciously, but courteous in her manner. When it became obvious that he would not be the one to broach the subject, she spoke harshly.

"I know, of course. I could see it on you. But I haven't told her. I didn't think it would be right for me to divulge your secrets without your knowledge or permission." Lupin started slightly at this blatant exclamation, but kept his tongue. "And judging from the way you sniff at us whenever we're around, I suppose you know a bit about us as well. In case you were wondering, it's true." He started again, more sharply this time. It seemed he wasn't expecting such honesty so quickly. But, as it has been mentioned before, Dove and Raven had no reservations about their past, only a sensible reluctance.

Dove jumped up from her chair now, red-hot eyes on the two people before her. They each knew something that she did not, and neither seemed about to tell her.

"What is it?! What do you know that you haven't told me?!" She growled angrily at her sister. They very rarely kept secrets from each other, and on the few occasions that they did, it was never something as important as this seemed to be. She then directed herself towards Lupin. "And what do you know about us? Hmm? Tell me! Both of you!" She was glaring angrily at both in turn. Her livid form dared either to deny her the knowledge she now desired. Raven cast a quiet glance at Lupin, who nodded softly in return.

"Dove, Professor Lupin is a werewolf."

***

The next jumble of days were a blur. Lupin had explained a bit about his being a werewolf, careful to tell them only the bare facts. Raven, in turn, explained to a stunned Dove and a curious Lupin how she had known about it.

"You see, everyone's Fabric is different," she'd begun. "It's like their soul. It's what holds them together. Everything about them is woven into the Fabric. Experiences, friends, emotions, characteristics. And there are some things that tear the Fabric, rip it. Sometimes if something really horrible happens to you, it might rip your Fabric. If you lose a loved one, then where they're woven into you might tear just a bit. Like when people say that their heart's broken. But it's not their heart that's broken, it's their Fabric that's ripped. All I have to do is look at a person's Fabric and I can know everything about them. Some of it is very detailed and hard to see, but they're usually private things, and I try not to look anyway. It wouldn't be right to pry into someone like that without their knowing. But other things are right there on top so that I couldn't help seeing it if I tried. Like yours, Professor, it's...well, werewolf-shaped, I guess. There's really no way to describe it. I can just look at it and know that you're a werewolf. I've seen it before. And there's a long slit up it too, like it tears you apart to be a werewolf. Only I don't see why it should. It's just another part of you, like the color of your eyes, nothing to be ashamed of."

He had averted his yes then, but could not resist asking some questions. It had taken a great deal of time to fully explain it to them both. Dove, while she had known about the Fabric before from Raven, had never heard such a detailed description, and it eased her to know more of what her sister knew. Raven had also come to find that Lupin had not known quite as much as she had thought. He was a bit mixed up about it, but had a general idea.

"When I first smelled you both, I hadn't yet seen you. You were down the corridor a ways, but your scent reached me above any other. I'd never smelled anything like it before. I felt like I wanted to run straight to you both and embrace you and thank you, but I wasn't sure what to thank you for." He had stumbled over the words, almost embarrassed to say them. But Dove had urged him on.

"Why? What do we smell like?"

"I'm not sure, really. It's hard to describe. When I first smelled it though, I thought it smelled like...like..." He paused, unsure of whether to go on or rush out the door.

"Like what?" Dove pressed.

"Erm...Like angels. I thought that it must be what angels smelled like." He sighed heavily as he let go of the thought. He slumped down onto the bed, trembling minutely, looking to Dove as if he was afraid of what they might think of him now.

"Like angels..." she whispered. "Well, I suppose you weren't far off." She had put a gentle hand on Lupin's shoulder to comfort him. His shaking had abated at the touch, and he'd looked up in earnest curiosity.

"What do you mean?" he'd said.

"Well..." It was Dove's turn to explain now. "We do have wings, like angels. We'd show you, but it's awfully cramped and Raven's so tired. Perhaps later. But also...well, we sort of heal people." His eyes had grown wide at the statement, so Dove had gone on. "See, I've always been able to heal people. Physically, I mean, and not with a wand. Just...I only have to touch them and think about it healing, and it does. There are a few sort of rules though. I can't do it if I don't know what it is. Like I can't just heal generally. I can't just make you feel better all of a sudden, without any idea of what I'm doing. I have to have something to concentrate on. But if you have a cut, I can fix the cut, as if it were never there. And...well, I think I have to have permission to do it. Because I don't always know what the consequences might be of someone being healed. Sometimes, bad things can happen just because I've made someone better, so I have to leave it up to the person whether they get better or not. And then...this is the most important thing...it seems to me, although I haven't got it figured out exactly, that I can only heal people if it's...erm, an innocent wound."

"What do you mean?" Professor Lupin had seemed strangely child-like at the time, breathless in his awe.

"Well, it doesn't matter who's hurt. If I like the person or not, I feel an obligation to heal them. If I don't, then I begin to sort of feel their pain. I used to fight it sometimes, until eventually it just hurt too much and I'd have to heal them. But no matter who the person is, friend or enemy, good or bad, I can only heal them if the wound is innocent. Like, imagine that you started a fight with Raven right now and you both hexed each other. Because you started it, I wouldn't be able to heal you. Because you deserved it, and it's a guilty wound. But I could heal Raven, because it wasn't her fault and she didn't deserve it, so it'd be an innocent wound. You see?"

He had nodded slowly, genuine understanding beginning to seep in. He had turned to Raven in his amazement and asked, "And can you do it too?"

"Sort of," she had said. She smiled and went on. "I can't heal anyone physically, like Dove can. At least, no more than any other student here. But I can fix Fabric. Like I was telling you, the rips and tears that happen to people throughout their lives, I can sort of mend them. It's very difficult to explain, I've tried telling Dove how to do it, but there's just no real way to describe it. It's sort of like what she does, only I have to piece the Fabric together with my hands instead of my mind. The same rules apply though. It's impossible for me to fix a tear if I don't know why it's there, and I would never, ever, ever even _think_ about touching a person's Fabric without their permission. And, like Dove, I can only mend innocent wounds. So if Dove went crazy right now and killed somebody," Lupin chuckled softly at the example, "I wouldn't be able to fix the tear that would appear in the moral part of her Fabric, as it was her fault. But I could fix the Fabric of the victims' friends or family where it tore when they lost the person, cuz they were innocent of it. Do you see?"

After that, it had been a slight matter of question and answer between the three. Dove and Raven had never really talked to a real werewolf before, although Raven claimed to have seen many, so they wanted to know all about it. Professor Lupin also had numerous questions to put forth. It had been well into the night before any of them had gotten any sleep.

The days after that were spent quietly. Dove and Raven had promised to visit Professor Lupin more often, now that he was a sort of confidante, but they wanted to get something out of the way first. Snape's present.

They had finally gotten the materials they'd needed from Alex, sent special delivery from his home in Muggle London. They'd prepared the materials as best they could in the little time they'd had and sent them right back off to the Weasley twins. The charms and spells that were needed were not entirely difficult, but Dove and Raven didn't want to trust their weak Charms skills to mess things up. As the Weasleys were quite handy with such things, they had entrusted the two boys to get it done for them. Usually, Dove would have been skeptical, but Raven had told the boys a few choice secrets about their mutual friend Chris which had eased their mischief for a time. In exchange for the information, they promised not to do anything to the gift besides what the girls specified.

As Dove and Raven had already sent the boys their research on the different incantations and the instructions that would be needed ahead of time, there had been sufficient time for the boys to practice and perfect, and it was only a short matter of time before the little parcel came right back to the girls the evening before Christmas.

They had stared at the box for a few minutes, unable to believe that it had pulled together so quickly. But after the disbelief had been discarded, the package was opened and the contents inspected. The girls tested every way that they could think of, looking for defects or flaws, imperfections or any ill-mannered little hex the boys might have tried to sneak by. But they had kept to their word, the gift was ready. And just in time, as well.

***

Christmas morning passed uneventfully. With no relatives (besides Her), and the 'no presents between friends' rule firmly in place, the girls had no gifts to open. A note of Christmas greeting from Professor McGonagall, and a friendly wave from Professor Lupin were the only clues to the holiday. Breakfast had been slept through, as neither girl was looking forward to seeing everyone else so cheerful from their early-morning gift-opening. They had finally clambered out of bed only upon the insistence of a hawk at the window.

The hawk had flown in immediately once they'd opened the window, dropped the note attached to its leg, and sped quickly off again. The girls, still wide-eyed from seeing a hawk deliver post, finally reached for the little scroll and opened it. It was from Draco.

"Figures. He would have a hawk deliver his post, wouldn't he?" Raven sneered at Dove's dark remark and yawned.

"Yes, well, what's it say then?" Raven rolled off the bed and onto the cold stone floor, effectively jolting herself awake.

"It reads _'Dove and Raven – I've spoken to each of my parents. For very different reasons, each looks forward to making your acquaintances. You can expect a note from my father before the end of holiday. - Draco_.' Aw, isn't that sweet." Dove crumpled the scroll and threw it into the fireplace. "Well, it looks as thought everything's in order then. Come on."

They both got dressed, peeling out of their new nightgowns (to their unending despair - they'd never take them off if they had the choice) and shrugging into some plain warm robes. Raven's first thought was to track down Ryle and speak with him, but they never managed to find him. He wasn't at lunch, and they were forced into reluctant conversation with a few members of faculty before they could properly search for him.

When they finally slipped out of Madam Hooch's grasp, they found themselves at the mercy of a very bored Peeves. He chased them about, throwing plates and barking at them, for nearly an hour. When they'd finally thought to call the Bloody Baron to help, they were too out of breath to do much else. They stumbled up to their rooms to relax and immediately fell asleep.

They awoke only just before Christmas dinner and had to take the steps three at a time to get there on time. Squeezed between their new acquaintance, Professor Lupin, and the ever-cheerful Professor Trelawney, they managed to recover their breath. Dove was lucky enough to be able to spend the evening in happy conversation with Lupin, while Raven was forced to suffer the morbid foretelling of the flighty Divination professor. Her only saving grace was her own sarcasm which she aimed, unobstructed, at the ditzy diviner. At meal's end, Raven was only too glad to excuse herself to her own (apparently) impending doom.

Raven and Dove wandered about, filling time, eventually heading back to their own common room. Bored to tears with nothing to do, they struggled to wait for Flitwick's festive cries to signal that the staff Christmas party was over so that they could finally give Professor Snape his gift. Sitting anxiously with the little velvet box in her hand, Dove became restless, storming about the room. Eventually, Raven challenged her to a light game of Wizard's Chess just to get her to sit still.

Near one in the morning, well past curfew, they heard a shrill voice ringing in the hallways.

_"Oh Crystal Tea, Oh Crystal Teaaaa,_

_You shrug off my advances!_

_Oh Kitten Treat, Oh Kitten Treaaaat,_

_Spilled cider on my pants-es!"_

Both girls listened attentively to the pathetic warblings which raged to the tune of "Oh, Christmas Tree". They had to hold onto each other to keep from falling down, they were laughing so hard. They had heard of Flitwick's strange yuletide tunes, but this was beyond anything they might have imagined. Tears streamed down their faces, red with laughter. It took them nearly ten minutes to compose themselves, as every time they managed to quiet down, one of them would hum a bit and they would both break out into fits of giggles again. Finally, they had wiped the last vestiges of the humorous proceedings onto the sleeves of their robes, and they crept out.

Confident that Snape was still awake, they snuck quietly down into the dungeons. Raven's hopes wavered momentarily when she saw no light in the classroom, but Dove was quick to point out the soft glow stealing from beneath the door to Snape's office. Both girls straightened their robes and patted down their hair. When they had given themselves a moment to breathe, Dove reached up and gingerly knocked on the door. A slight scraping of wood on stone was heard, presumably his chair, and then the door was pinched slightly open.

"Yes?" came the growled answer. Both girls quaked beneath the sound, but held themselves fast. His eyes adjusted to the dark outside of his office, and he finally spotted the girls. Surprise irritated his face slightly, but he stepped back, opening the door further as he moved. "Miss Thomas, Miss Thomas. It is rather late for you to be out. Come in, quickly, before Peeves catches you and makes a scene."

The girls entered, grateful at his unexpectedly easy acceptance of their presence. They paused for a moment, unsure how to proceed, until he gestured towards two chairs in front of a large desk. They sat, quietly, and he moved to the other side, sitting in his own chair. He rested his elbows easily onto the desk and steepled his fingers. He scanned them both, trying to read their expressions, but what he found puzzled him. "Why have you both come here?"

Dove glanced cautiously at Raven, who gave a strong nod of assurance. Slowly, Dove stood up. She moved a step or two towards the desk, then hastily set the small velvet box in front of Snape and sat back down. At her sister's silent insistence, Raven spoke.

"It's a gift, sir. For Christmas." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his mouth nearly fell open. But he made no sound. "We'd have given it to you earlier, but..." Raven made as if to finish the sentence, but cut herself off abruptly. "Anyway, merry Christmas. Open it."

Snape merely snorted weakly at the vague command she used, but only leaned forward to seize the box. The velvet was soft beneath his fingers, and he cradled it gently. Gods knew he hadn't had a present in years, he almost didn't remember how to open one. He slid a fingernail into the straight crevice where the box opened, and gently forced the lid up. Inside, on a bed of silky cloth, was a ring. It was a flat silver band, plain but with an air of sophistication, and there was a thinner band of some foreign mineral inlaid within it. He took it out, shocked at its simple elegance, and turned it about between his thumb and forefinger.

As he observed it, the thinner band began to change color from a solid blue to a strong yellow color. He glanced up at the girls in curiosity. Not a word had passed yet, and he was afraid to break the silence. At his glance, however, Dove finally spoke.

"It's an emotion ring. Based on an old Muggle toy from years back, only this actually works. It changes color according to what you're feeling. It's keyed to the wearer, so it displays the color you'd most closely relate to the emotion. Raven thought you'd like it." She spoke quickly, as if afraid that he might interrupt. But he only looked on at the ring as she spoke. Finally, Raven petered her voice back in.

"Yes, well. Because the other day...you said you didn't know how you felt. I thought, if you meant it, then this might help you. And you don't have to worry about anyone else seeing it, in case you're embarrassed or anything, because there's a real easy Concealment Charm on it so that when you put it on, only you can see it. Look." Raven pulled at a space on her own finger and a ring fell into her hand, seemingly from thin air. It was identical to the one Snape held, but smaller. Dove did the same, and a third ring was on view. After giving a moment to allow him a quick eyeful, they both thrust the rings back onto the fingers they had apparently been occupying. At once, they disappeared.

Snape, cautiously, slid the ring onto his right hand. He saw no difference, it was still visible to his eye. But a quick Discovery Spell revealed that it was, in fact, invisible to every other eye. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up at the two girls, cautious expectation on each of their faces. He was suddenly struck by a strange sense of beauty emanating from them. He waited a few moments, allowing his voice time to catch up with his mind.

"I'm not sure I can accept this-" he began.

"Of course you can!" Both girls blurted at once, nearly jumping out of their chairs. He paused, awkwardly, gazing at the two of them. Looking down at the ring, the solitary gift, he smiled. Still wearing the unpracticed smile, he mumbled a soft "thank you," and the girls beamed at him. All three sat silently for a few minutes, then Dove and Raven stood up together. As one, they said, "Well, merry Christmas then. See you tomorrow," and they left. He could hear them both scrambling back to their common room as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing at the warm ring with his other hand. The ring melted into a dark metallic blue, with slivers of silver, and he gasped at the sight. He knew precisely what the ring meant.

***

In their own rooms, the girls had jumped into bed, and were sitting up, thinking.

_You don't think the Discovery Spell told him, do you?_ Raven thought.

_No, it's buried too deep. I gave the Weasleys particular instructions to make sure it was the first spell they did. _She paused, then went on, thinking in a lighter tone._ It was partly their idea, you know. I mean, I was the one who thought to charm our rings to show us what he's feeling instead of what we're feeling. But it was their idea to keep the colors keyed to us. No point, really, if we see the colors and don't understand them. I never would have thought of it, it was terribly brilliant of them._

_Yeah, I guess so. You think he'll be angry if her ever finds out?_

_I'm not sure. I suppose he might be. But he never needs to find out, does he?_

_What if the Weasleys tell? _The worry in Raven's mind struggled to contain itself, and Dove found herself comforting her sister.

_They don't know it's for him._

_Yeah, you're right. Do you suppose he liked it, then?_

_Well, I dunno. Let's have a look._

"_Lumos_." Both girls looked down at their hands, eyes alighting upon the little bands that only they could see. Dove's ring was a rich purple color, tinged with green. Raven's was pure white with just a hint of silver around the edge, blending into the metal that housed it. They both smiled.

_He _does_ like it! He's...happy_, they each thought joyfully. Their doubts melted away from them and, after a few more exhausted minutes, they both fell asleep, soft snores shimmering through the air.

***

Next Chapter: the girls finally get a game of quidditch, a few convos with alex and drew, an invitation from lucius, and we get to meet cute little wowie, dobby's successor in the malfoy home!


	12. An Invitation to Fate

Disclaimer: mostly not mine, so there.

A/N: just a few little things. number one: michelle is my new hero. just thought everyone should know. so if anyone has an extra million bucks lying around uselessly, rather than telling you that i would be more than willing to take it off your (obviously unconventional) hands, i would ask you to please send it to her (as she is great and worthy).

number two: for sent from heaven, the emotion rings don't work the same as mood rings. mood rings are whatever the hell kind of mineral they are (or whatever, screw my lack of scientific knowledge), and different temperatures cause a reaction making it change colors, blah blah blah. everyone knows this. but whoever sold them just threw out a few generalizations. if it's green, you're worried, and if it's blue, you're happy. so he's pretty much saying that if your body temperature is low, you're worried, and if it's high, you're happy. pretty broad, if you ask me. the emotion rings work on a level of consciousness. not that the rings are conscious, but you are. they only act to acknowledge the consciousness. everyone relates colors to actions and feelings and people, it's a weird brain thing. like red is usually associated with love, black with death, and so on. but it differs from person to person based on experiences and opinion and such. so what the ring does is displays the color that you subconsciously associate with the emotion you're experiencing. and only you can understand it because the odds of someone else knowing that (deep down) when you see seafoam green you think of being hungry and depressed are really really low. i wonder if that makes more sense now, or if i've only confused you more. anyway, point is, the ring magnifies and displays your emotions, so you look at the ring and you know what you're feeling. you can't hide your emotions from yourself. you can try to deceive yourself, but the ring makes it tangible for you. i just thought it would be interesting to give snape a gift that doesn't allow himself to lie about his feelings like he usually does. (of course, he doesn't know that the girls' rings have been charmed to tell them what he's feeling rather than what they're feeling...hee hee) ok, now i'm only confusing myself. that's all for that then.

and last, but not least, number three: i fixed last chapter. professor lupin was not at the meal, but i did still have him talk to the girls afterward. so he'll just have to cover for himself with that one. and now back to the juicy stuff!

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Twelve: An Invitation to Fate

***

The clumsy house-elf bobbled about uncertainly. She was getting older now, and being surrounded by such dark secrets did nothing for her nervous anxiety, but she was glad to be free of the dungeons. She still felt badly for poor little Dobby, of course, he was young for a house-elf and had much to learn. She was sorry to see him dismissed last year, but he didn't seem to mind and, as a result, she had been released to serve the Master.

She scrambled along up the stairs, flinching under the awkward stares of the great paintings on the walls. Long-dead ancestors sneered inhumanly, sending a chill down her lavender spine. The tray she was carrying remained perfectly level, however, even as she dipped and dodged the leering eyes, the mark of a good house-elf. Finally, she reached the long hallway that would lead her to the Master's library. She could easily have magicked herself into the large room from the kitchen, her age brought great powers, but the Master refused to allow it. He preferred to see her struggling up the numerous staircases under her heavy loads.

Stepping quickly and quietly, she approached the great heavy doors that opened into the library. But just as she reached for the doorknob, she heard the loud sharp bellow from within.

"WOWIE!"

She quailed at the sound emanating from within. She struggled to keep her calm, straightening her pillowcase-dress and flattening her large ears, and stepped inside. The room was remarkably warm considering the chilly state that the rest of the manor was kept in. A fire roared in the fireplace, lighting most of the room with its dark raking glow. The walls were expansive bookcases from floor to ceiling, filled with books and tomes on every imaginable subject. In the center of the room was a thick rug, very expensive, and two large overstuffed chairs. A desk and one high-backed hand-carved chair resided in the farthest corner of the room, and lounging easily upon the sole lounge was...her Master. Lucius Malfoy.

She shivered once again, and her large plum-colored eyes involuntarily swam with tears, but she held them back. Stepping lightly now, she rushed to her Master, setting the tray upon a low table that she immediately conjured. Pouring the steaming tea into a beautiful china cup, she added one sugar and stepped back.

"Well, Wowie. How nice of you to come. I certainly apologise if I was interrupting something." Her Master's eyes glittered with evil, and his tone bit at her with its harsh sarcastic tones. She apologized profusely, banging her head on the floor and stepping on her own foot heavily. She would have to punish herself more thoroughly when she was allowed to retreat to the kitchen.

She watched as her Master lifted himself from his place on the lounge and moved over to the desk. He moved fluidly, with almost no discernible sound, and paused at a stack of parchment. Flipping through pages of letters and notes, he removed one and read over it carefully. His mouth curled up at the end, and the sight caused poor Wowie's stomach to lurch. Such amusement could not be the result of anything pleasant. She went light-headed at the prospect of the many things that might put such a cruel smile on her Master's face. He sniffed quietly, the reached down to the desk for a quill. Dipping it softly into a bottle of thick red ink, he signed off at the bottom of the parchment and folded it into an envelope. Speaking a few soft words, he reached for the wax near his left hand.

As he moved, Wowie conjured a tray of biscuits and set them next to the tea tray. She checked to make sure that everything was in order, and finally picked up a small butter knife to inspect for cleanliness. But just as she reached over the table to lay it back down, she heard a sharp noise, a chuckle, coming from the desk. The sound startled her so greatly, that she dropped the knife! Immediately, her senses re-sharpened and she recovered the little knife, and with a quick pop, it was clean and returned to the tray. She sighed with relief as her Master turned to look at her, obviously oblivious of the action, and turned back to the parchment.

He finished sealing the parchment and stalked back over to the lounge. Setting it beside him as he sat, he reached for the tray of biscuits. He paused, however, as he examined the tray. Sneering, he grabbed at Wowie's tiny wrist, wrenching it towards him and nearly causing her to cry out in pain.

"Where's the jam, you stupid creature?!" Wowie's chin trembled, but she summoned the jam immediately, placing it carefully on the tray with her free hand. Her Master slackened his grip a bit before pointing at the butter knife and growling. For a moment, Wowie thought that he had indeed seen her clumsy error, but his next words surprised her with their pettiness. "You should know that I will not use the same knife for butter and jam! You imbecilic slob, fetch me another!"

He released her with a hard flick, and she stumbled away. Knowing better than to summon a knife from the kitchen (Dobby had feared for his life once when he made the grand mistake of summoning a knife, which flew all about the house trying to find him and nearly took off the head of one of the great-aunts whose picture resided in a hallway on the second floor), so she reached instead for the butter knife she had dropped only moments earlier. Concentrating, she pulled with both hands at the little knife, struggling only slightly at the resistance. As she pulled, the knife seemed to stretch like putty, pulling evenly into her hands until there were two identical knives in each palm. She placed them both on the tray before her Master and looked up with large pleading eyes.

He studied her pitiful face with wry amusement, but gave no response. Instead, he reached for the parchment still settled beside him. He thrust it into her hands and sat back.

"Have this delivered immediately. Use Draco's hawk, as I don't believe Samyra is back yet. Then check on my wife. Now go." He picked up a biscuit from the tray and turned away from her. She trembled involuntarily, but gripped the letter and backed out of the library as fast as she could.

Running down the hall, she tried to remember which of Draco's rooms his hawk was kept in. Down a set of stairs and across a hallway decorated entirely in midnight blue, she stopped in front of a door. She would send the letter, of course, but for some reason, she was overcome with curiosity as to the recipient. The sensation overwhelmed her, as she usually had no desire to know anything about her Master's actions or acquaintances. But it was overpowering. She could feel herself turning the letter over in her hands. Her eyes flicked up and down the hallway cautiously and, to her great surprise, she gave in. She lifted the parchment to her large eyes and read the address quietly in her own high-pitched tone.

"_Miss Dove Thomas – Miss Raven Thomas_." She paused at the names, disbelieving. "No. No, it cannot be!" The air left her lungs, and she found herself struggling to breathe. Memories and long-forsaken hope rushed into her head, crowding out all other sensibilities. "Is it true? Is my Mistress alive?!"

Numb from the thoughts running about in her head, she sent the hawk off with the note and flitted off to check on the Master's wife, her sickly Mistress, like a good house-elf. When the Master's orders had finally been carried out to specification, Wowie promptly fainted.

***

"I don't know how you can stand these things. They're positively uncivil," Drew drawled. He held the cordless phone two inches away from his head, distaste scrawled across his face.

"Oh, come on, Drew. It's just a phone. Get used to it. Look, the girls had me send them some old retro Muggle toys, I think they're for him. I was wondering if you knew anything about it." Alex spoke hurriedly, and Drew struggled to untangle the different levels of emotion from his friend's voice. Drew was usually very observant about these things, but Alex had him stumped.

"Ah, no. Sorry, but I haven't heard a thing about it. They haven't actually told me anything, you realize. It's all been my keen observation 'til now. Unlikely that they'll send me a note detailing their love lives now, isn't it? If they'd wanted me to know, they would have told me by now." Drew spoke with a touch of anger. Truth be known, he was rather put out that they _hadn't_ said anything.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright. I just...I don't know. I feel like I'm out of the loop here. I don't understand. I mean, if they really like him, I'd prefer that they just told us. Why do they need to hide it? Yeah, it's weird. I certainly don't see the attraction, and Chris and Kello will _not_ be happy about it...but they could at least have the decency to allow us to react. We'd all accept it eventually." Alex began to drift off more and more, emotion settling fully into his voice. On his own end of the line, Drew rolled his eyes.

"Oh. My. God. Gonna vom." Drew mimicked a slight vomiting gag, then chuckled softly. "Will you cut it out? Maybe that reaction is precisely what they're trying to avoid. I can't blame them myself."

"Don't be an asshole, Drew."

"Pardon me? I am not an asshole," Drew seethed.

"Yeah, you are," was Alex's weak reply. Drew immediately recovered at the lame response.

"Compelling argument." Alex snickered at the sarcasm and sighed. "Look, Alex. I don't even know how serious it is. It might be some little thing, it could blow over by the end of next week for all we know. So don't get so upset over it, alright?" Drew struggled to comfort his friend. Comfort was not his area. "Erm...I'll talk to them for you, okay? See what I can get out of them."

"No, you can't do that..." Alex mumbled.

"Of course I can. I'm a gay man, I can do anything," Drew said sharply.

"That's not what I meant. I know you _can_, but you shouldn't. Just leave them to it. I guess we'll just have to trust them to come around."

"Alright. Well, I'm getting off of this thing now. Holding this handset, well...I think I'm strangely aroused," Drew drawled with a verbal shrug.

"Erg!" And with that, Alex hung up. For a few long minutes afterward, Drew was left to contemplate his actions. _I wonder if I made the right choice. Maybe I shouldn't have told him...But he shouldn't be left to find out with the rest of us either. Argh, I just don't know. I guess it's up to them now._ And the subject was forgotten.

***

As the week wore on, the girls were careful to keep to themselves in their room. They managed to sneak in a few visits with the Headmaster, and one with Professor Lupin, but they made sure they did not harass Professor Snape. It had suddenly occurred to Dove, the day after Christmas, that he might think they were leaching onto him. And if there was any one kind of person that the sisters despised, it was a leach.

So they had their meals in their room, courtesy of a few overeager house-elves, and they spent a lot of time out in the forest soaring through the treetops. It had never occurred to them that their careful avoidance might give their Head of House the opposite idea. The day before term resumed, the girls found two letters waiting on their night table. One was written in metallic green ink, the other in a thicker red ink. They read the blood-inked parchment first, certain of its origin.

Misses Thomas,

            I have received some interesting information regarding you both. As an objective party, I find myself quite curious as to the extent of your unusual proficiencies. Ingrained skills such as yours are rare to come by and highly prized among wizards of superior status. I entreat you both to join me two weeks from now at my home to discuss these remarkable abilities. If I am pleased, you may find yourselves in possession of a strong benefactor willing to keep your place in the wizarding community secure. Await my summons.

                                                            Lucius Malfoy

That was it. No explanation for the sudden communication frenzy, even thought they had never even met the man before. No questions of health or family. It wasn't even really an invitation, it was a command. But the girls hadn't really expected anything else. His wording seemed peculiar, and they made themselves a mental note to ask Draco about it. They both sighed in unison, it seemed the deal was done now. There could be no turning back. Dove sniffled softly, prompting a short-lived hug from her sister. But that was all. There was not even a need for any reply to this. Dove shoved it into the inside pocket of her cloak, thrown across the back of a chair, and proceeded to unroll the second parchment.

 As soon as they opened it, they were surprised. It was from Professor Snape. Or at least, they assumed it was, there was no signature at the bottom. But the subject made it clear to them.

Misses Thomas,

            My deepest apologies if I have somehow offended you. I can find no reason for your abrupt avoidance except that I have somehow wronged you both. I am unused to either giving or receiving gifts, and therefore must assume that I have made some error therein. To be sure, I am very grateful for your gift. It has been most effective in its purpose, and I have found it a great comfort. But perhaps it is not my inability to convey my appreciation, rather my lack of compensation. My only proof of remorse is the gift you so obligingly bestowed upon me. It crackles at me in disagreeable shades of gray and red. Please accept my apologies.

The girls darted a look at their rings. They had been very particular about not looking at the rings, afraid that they might see some proof of his aversion to them. But they could not hide their vivid curiosity now, and they stared lamely at the rings. Both girls slumped immediately.

_He thinks we're mad at him! How can that be?_ Dove thought incredulously.

_I don't know. This is so weird. And this letter..._

_I know. It's amazing. I never would have thought he could write like that. Oh, gods. What do you think he means by compensation?_

_No, no, no. Don't worry, I don't think that's what he meant. I think he meant something more along the lines of...well, of getting us gifts. I think he feels bad because we got him something and he didn't get us anything. It must be strange for him, not knowing how to react and all._

_Yeah. What do you think we should do?_

_Well...console him, I guess. He really thinks we're mad at him, we need to let him know that we're not._

_Alright, grab a pierce of parchment._

Raven snatched a piece of parchment and tossed it to her sister, then summoned a quill and ink from her trunk. Dove wrote quickly and mercilessly, while Raven got hold of an owl. Dove blew on the parchment to dry the ink, sending the note off before the wax had even finished drying. They waited, afraid to speak, for the reply. It wouldn't take long for him to receive the note, as they were all in such close proximity. But they had no idea how long it might take for an answer.

"Wow, that was quick," said Raven as the owl came swooping back less that ten minutes later. She reached for the reply and pulled it open quickly. Dove scrambled over to her and perched her chin on Raven's shoulder. Neither took the time to breathe as they read.

Misses Thomas,

            I am relieved to hear that I have not upset you. Although I find it curious that you would be so clumsy in your deduction of my assumptions. The fault must lay with me. Perhaps I should secure myself in your good favor with a peace offering.

Dove laughed out loud. Raven smiled brightly and rolled her eyes.

"Unbelievable. He is just a surprise a minute, isn't he?" Dove stammered through her giggles, unable to keep the relief from pouring out of her.

"Yeah, he is. Although, I have to admit. I'm glad for the sarcasm. I was getting kind of worried with that first letter, didn't seem like him at all."

"I know what you mean, but this...this is him. Hey, you think we should send something back?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not? Here, my turn." Raven snatched the parchment from her sister and scribbled a quick blurb, pausing only momentarily to remember a bit of the quote. Then, sealing it, she sent it off and sat back. Smiling, she kept her eyes on her ring, impatiently awaiting his reaction.

***

Sitting in his study, Severus tapped his finger impatiently on his leg. Nearly a week had gone by without another word from either of the girls, and he was getting edgy. He'd tried to track them down a few times, but it had seemed almost as if they were avoiding him. After hours of careful contemplation, he had finally come to the unpleasant conclusion that he had somehow offended them. His heart sank, but for reasons he was clearly unable to identify. Nor would he have been willing to. Frustration and anger welled up within him until he could no longer take it. Fumbling for his wand, he muttered the words and greeted the parchment and quill with a glare.

Seating himself near a heavy table, he scratched away quickly, the words flowing from his fingers. His mind had no opportunity to think through what he wrote, merely allowed the feelings to dictate themselves. He sealed the note and sent it off.

He immediately regretted it.

_What have I done? What did I write?_ He thought hard, tension building, but his mind was blank. He had no idea what he had written. Confusion tore through his mind, this wasn't him. This wasn't how he acted. He had barriers and boundaries, he had walls up all around. How could he have spilled himself so easily? _What will the consequences be?_

He sighed heavily and slumped down. _Something strange is happening_. For the past few days he had felt increasingly stronger emotions welling inside of him. The smallest things, usually forgotten within moments, were dwelling in his mind for hours, keeping him awake at night. He'd even caught himself smiling earlier at one of the Headmaster's jokes. Luckily, nobody else had observed it, or they might have died from the shock of it.

He berated himself, growling and thumping his fist on the table. He looked down at the ring, the gift. A strange, subdued sort of joy flickered in a burst of silvery-purple clouds, but were slowly pushed away by dark shards of red and bronze. He snarled and pulled the ring off of his finger. He turned it over in his hand, observing it from every angle. It had a stark beauty to it that he admired. Dove and Raven didn't seem the type for elaborately gratuitous jewelry, and he was suddenly glad for their intuitive fashion sense. He chuckled silently at his own meanderings, and his thoughts jumped suddenly to the day in Hogsmeade..._Gladrags...I wonder what they were purchasing?_ Entertaining pictures scattered his mind momentarily, but he pushed the thoughts away quickly. _Absurd_, he thought angrily. _They're students._

But his thoughts were scattered further when the owl he had sent off returned. His eyes darted to the note it dropped on the table, curiosity warring with a number of less enthusiastic emotions, but he found himself able to sort through them. _Ah, much better. Yes, I can control myself. Go about this in a dignified manner_. He discarded the more frivolous feelings, and settled on curiosity. _After all, there's no reason not to open it_, he chided himself. _It's only a letter_. He opened it and read. The script was round and curvy, very distracting but very pretty.

Professor Snape,

            Our own apologies are in order if you thought, for even one moment, that we were dissatisfied with you in some way. It is true that we have been making a conscious effort to keep our distance, but for a very different reason. We were afraid that _you_ might be unhappy with _us_. It had suddenly occurred to us that our actions could, within reason, be construed as flippant or even childish, and we did not want to bother you with our immaturity. We gave you the gift because we hoped you might find it useful, not because we expected something in return. Our satisfaction depends solely upon your own. We apologize for the misunderstanding, the fault is ours. Please forgive us.

                                                            Dove and Raven

Severus was suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath, and exhaled gently. Relief washed over him, but he was still unsatisfied. Pulling at another sheet of parchment, he began to write, but with a greater sense of conscious thought this time. He read over what he'd written, making sure it was appropriate. _No point in sending it if they can't read the sarcasm_, he thought darkly. But inwardly, he was sure they would appreciate the words as he intended them. He folded it precisely and sent the owl off once more.

He snapped his fingers, suddenly more at ease. He could feel himself in control once more for the first time in days, and the sensation suited him. A tray of tea appeared on the table with a light pop, and he relaxed himself with a cup while he awaited their response. Mere minutes had passed before it arrived. He finished his tea before opening it, testing his control. Finally satisfied, he reached for the note and read, this time in Raven's sharper script. He flinched with amusement at the opening address. _I really should speak to them about their informal manner_, he thought. But he knew he wouldn't. He found it rather charming, to his own disdain.

'Fess – 

            No need for peace pipes here, we're okay if you're okay. Have you ever read Nikki Giovanni? Great Muggle poetess, although I have a sneaking suspicion you two would be at each other's throats if you ever met. She once wrote:

...ultimately there is the understanding

that even nothing is something

as long as you are there

to give the nothing                      personally

Smart girl. No need to buy us off, 'Fess. We already put up with you most of the time anyway. Why raise the stakes now?

                                                            Raven and Dove

He looked down once more at the ring. Reaching for it, he plucked it off the table and placed it back on his finger. Instantly, a strange warm feeling of_...comfort?_ spread out within him, and he smiled.

***

First day of term rolled around, and the girls sat through classes with an empty look. When they'd finally been dismissed from Runes, they scampered off to track down Draco. They finally cornered him just after another of his petty squabbles with Potter. Dragging him inside an empty room, they sat him down and glared.

"What did you say to your father, Draco?" came Dove's lilting voice. "He kept mentioning 'ingrained skills and 'proficiencies'. We want to know why." The intentional gentility sent shivers down Draco's spine and he struggled to hold his tongue. But it wasn't easy under the double impact.

"Spill.," commanded Raven, and Draco began to talk.

"I...erm. Well, I had to tell him something. So I just said the first thing that came to mind. I told him you were...ehh..." He hesitated spectacularly, and Raven pounced. She grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and yanked his body backwards. Glaring down at him hard, she whispered once more.

"Spill."

"Itoldhimyouwereviksen!" He cried out as she released him, trembling at the blows that were sure to follow. When none came, he glanced up quickly, and his eyes widened in surprise. They didn't seem particularly angry. Matter of fact...they didn't even seem to comprehend what he'd said.

"Vixens? Oh." Dove shrugged. "Okay. Weird." The two girls gave each other soft shrugs and walked out. Draco gasped as they shut the door behind them. He was almost relieved, when a nagging thought abruptly forced its way into his head and he groaned. _They're going to kill me when they find out..._

***

Walking down the hallway, the two girls giggled quietly.

_I can't believe he was so freaked out. I realize most chicks wouldn't be too happy about being called vixens, but really. I mean, with what he knows about us, you'd think he could come up with something a bit stronger, huh?_ Raven snorted abruptly and Dove gave her a sharp look before responding.

_Yeah, I guess you're right. Calling us vixens, ha...that's like a Gryffindor saying Snape is inconsiderate_. They both laughed heartily as they walked, finally stopping in front of the library. They peered in for a moment, and Dove's eyes caught on a familiar face. She rushed in, dragging Raven behind her.

"Alex! Oi, Alex! We haven't seen you in..." She stopped a moment in mock-thought. "Hours! It's been absolute hours! Where haaaaave you beeeen?" She dragged out the words as annoyingly as possible and grinned at her friend. He only glanced at them and went back to his book. But neither girl was about to be shrugged off. They sat down huffily across from him and slammed their palms on the table. Madame Pince shot daggers at the intruders with her eyes, but gave up when she saw the culprits. After four years with the twins, she knew it would be futile.

"What do you want?" whined Alex, trying to focus.

"Just the pleasure of your company, mate." Dove grinned ferally, never taking her eyes off of him. Finally, he looked up. Sighing loudly, he closed the book and glared.

"Fine. The pleasure's all yours. Now what?"

"Hey, Malfoy just called us a couple of foxy ladies, we want to celebrate."

"Malfoy?" Alex scowled at the name. "Called you two foxy ladies? Where'd he even hear the term. Even Muggles don't say that anymore." Raven chuckled at his indignant manner and waved it off.

"Actually, he called us a couple of vixens. We could assume that he meant we were shrewish wenches, but we prefer the second definition. 'Vixen – noun – female fox'," she recited happily. "So, technically, you could say he called us a couple of foxy ladies. See? It's always nice to look on the bright side. Isn't it, Dovey-baby?" Dove smiled and nodded, but stopped abruptly when she saw the pained look on Alex's face.

"He. Called. You. WHAT?!" Alex hissed the words as harshly as he could without raising his voice. Even in his anger, he kept a Ravenclaw's respect for the library.

"Vixens..." Dove spoke hesitantly, unsure of this newfound anger. "Why? What's wrong, Lexy?"

"Do you know what a vixen really is? And I don't mean the stupid slang Muggles use it for. I mean the magical creatures, the vik'sen, that _Malfoy_ was referring to. Do you know they are?" The derision in his voice caused both girls to shake their heads in the negative, and he proceeded to explain.

***

The girls strapped on their thick leather padding, retying the draw on their quidditch robes. Side-by-side, in absolute silence, they braided their long hair and picked up their Firebolts. Stomping out onto the field, they refused even to look at Draco Malfoy. The boy sighed. This was not going to be easy.

When the whistle shrilled, the players rose into the air. Ravenclaw was good this year, but they were no competition for the skilled Seeker, quick Chasers, and merciless Beaters. Slytherin's poor Keeper was a sad case, but they paid no general mind. Usually, the game would have been over as soon as the Snitch appeared, but Draco wasn't that lucky.

Randomly, a Bludger would find its way in his direction, with no apparent Ravenclaw Beaters in sight. A smirk would then be caught glowing on Dove's or Raven's face. Once and again a fairly easy block was forgotten, or a simple shot went untaken, and Draco seemed to be suffering for it. And Ravenclaw was gaining on Slytherin.

The score was close, but Draco's Beaters were closer. They kept to either side of him, silently plotting his demise no doubt. Twice Raven "accidentally" missed a Bludger and smashed Draco's arm instead. Three times the Snitch came into view. The girls made sure to keep the Ravenclaw Seeker out of sight, but neither did they allow Draco the opportunity to catch it. Draco tried as hard as he could, but they would not let up. And he was getting more tired by the minute.

Finally, just as the Raves were threatening to win, the Snitch popped into view just in front of Draco. The girls had no chance of stopping him. Draco merely reached out and grabbed it. Scowling considerably, Dove pulled back her right arm, clenching her white knuckles around the base of her bat, and swung. The bat connected angrily with the side of Draco's head, just above his ear, and would have knocked him clean off his broomstick if Raven hadn't been on the other side of him. As it were, he just tumbled into her, causing her to growl at him in response. The girls each took hold of his broom with one hand and steered him down towards the ground. When they were within ten feet of it, they swiftly let go.

Unbalanced by the sudden loss of direction, Draco stumbled to grab hold of his broomstick, but to no avail. He was bucked off headfirst and fell to the ground in a heap. The girls landed easily on either side of him, brooms in hand, and stalked off. Before any authority had a chance to address the strange issue of fouls against teammates, the girls were out of sight, and Draco was being scanned by Madame Pomfrey. When the check came off clean (save a few bruises which could not be helped), he was sent off to shower and celebrate. But their would be no celebration tonight...not for Draco.

***

"_Sex demons_?! You told your father we were **sex demons**?!" Dove's face had gone red with fury, her arms clenched sharply at her sides. "What were you thinking?!"

Draco cowered beneath her. She and Dove had jumped him on his way to the common room, binding and gagging him with a few simple spells before dragging him into the nearest deserted classroom. They'd removed the gag after placing a well-thought-out Silencing Spell on the room and warding the door. To his surprise, and uncalculated worry, Raven was entirely silent and calm. She didn't even have her wand drawn. She had the same serene look on her face that she'd worn before plastering Goyle earlier that year. He hated that look. Dove, on the other hand, was spitting fury. In his head, Draco tried to determine whether he was more afraid of Dove's wand, or Raven's lack of one.

Still slumped beneath the obscenity-laced rambling of the white-haired girl before him, he managed to keep his face straight. It would not do to show them his fear. They might find a way to exploit it. He choked slightly at the thought, then realized that Dove had gone silent, obviously expecting an answer.

"I...erm..." he stumbled out. "I'm sorry. But it was the only logical explanation. I couldn't very well tell him everything about you. And, knowing my father, he wouldn't have listened to anything else. He doesn't bother with..._girls_...unless they're worth bothering with. I had to give a reason for your...erm...experience." He flinched at his own explanation. While it was true that his father would have written off anything else he might have said, he wasn't sure if these girls would understand that.

"What do you mean?" Raven was obviously trying to recover the situation, attempting to get some semblance of reason from the boy.

"I mean...well, my father's had plenty of experience with women. He wouldn't waste his time on some stupid girls if they didn't have something to recommend them. Just telling him that you two have had plenty of sex wouldn't have done it." By now, the blunt egotism was slipping back into his voice. "So I had to give you some skills. And not only that, but it had to be something that he couldn't find anywhere else. He's always wanted vik'sen, and I figured you two could pull it off. I know it isn't the most...flattering...idea, but it does have its advantages." He paused slightly, changing a look at Dove again to see if she was having any of it. He relaxed slightly when he saw that she was definitely beginning to settle down. She'd even relented on the death grip her wand was entrenched in.

"Keep going. We need to know everything. First off, do you even know precisely what vik'sen are?" Raven's voice jumped slightly with an angry inflection.

"Well, yes. Vik'sen are the second generation offspring of a succubus. One quarter sex demon. The blood of the succubus only affects the second generation, no others, so they're very rare. And they retain the sexual abilities associated with the blood, without the danger of hidden agendas like the full-bloods. They're usually employed as assassins, if I remember my father correctly." He spoke with a deceptive smoothness, although a note of hesitance had crept in. He suddenly realized that there could be a bit more to this. Quite a bit more.

"Close, Draco," came the heated retort. "The vik'sen are rare, but even more so than you think. Because vik'sen not only have to have the blood of a succubus, but the blood of a siren as well. Otherwise, there is no effect on the lineage whatsoever. But when a girl has one succubus grandmother and one siren grandmother...the effect is quite remarkable. The gift of enchanting song, without the threat of death...the gift of sexual prowess, without the danger of stealing souls. Vik'sen are the ultimate seductresses. However, they must be kept alive. Emphasis on the word "kept", Draco. As soon as vik'sen hit puberty, their will to live wanes. It is in their blood to take lives, but the means to effectively do so is too watered down, no longer in their nature. They become weak and docile. They must therefore be taken in by some benefactor, someone to give them purpose and thereby supply them with the will and strength to live. That is why they are _always _employed as assassins. And now your father thinks _he_ could be _our_ benefactor. No doubt a dizzyingly euphoric possibility for him. Servants, skilled lovers, and unmatchable killers under his command. And you gave us to him. This was going to be a one-time thing, Draco, to save your mother. Now, if it is to work, we are going to have to stay in his service to survive." The emotion had leaked out by now. Raven spoke hollowly, the words mechanic and empty.

Draco took in all that he had just heard, forgetting to breathe in the confusion of it. Without his noticing, Raven rid him of his bonds and pulled him to his feet.

"Do you understand what I have told you, Draco? Do you understand what you have done?" Dove asked quietly.

"I'm...sorry," he managed. His throat tightened and he could utter no more. The girls nodded to him and left. No hexes, no fists, nothing else. They just walked out, leaving Draco feeling utterly drained and out of control. He stumbled to his dorm, collapsing onto the bed without changing his clothes. _What have I done?_ he thought helplessly, before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

***


	13. In the Company of Men

Disclaimer: more than half's not mine. what more do you want, people?

man! i love people who review! you guys are so great! i swear, one of these days, i'm just going to sit down and write a nice thank-you note to each and every one of you.

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Thirteen: In the Company of Men

***

Dove slid into the comfiest chair she could find. The library was always quiet, always warm, and filled to the very brim with books. If it had not been for the complete lack of comfortable chairs and a fast food restaurant, she could have lived there quite happily. But as it were, she was stuck with a very stiff overstuffed contraption that masqueraded as a chair. She sighed heavily so as to annoy Madame Pince and forced herself to become accustomed to the unforgiving chair.

Sliding next to her was an exhausted black-haired girl who wrapped her robes around herself and muttered a quick Transfiguration spell. In moments, the heavy wooden chair she had taken stretched and molded itself to her, adopting a much softer feel as well. Seconds later, a heavy whisper rattled in Raven's ear.

"Raven Thomas! Just what do you think you're doing?! You Transfigure that chair back this very instant!" Madame Pince's voice struck her harshly, and she was very nearly startled out of her wits. Glancing behind, she was unable to locate the source of the sound. Finally, halfway across the room, she saw the livid librarian holding her wand to her throat and whispering with great animosity, her eyes fixed on Raven's little lounge. "This! Instant!"

Raven recovered quickly and forced a teasing smile across her lips. Batting her eyelashes, she gave Madame Pince her best "I'm-just-an-innocent-little-thing-with-no-concept-of-how-I've-angered-you" look and turned away. That same voice murmured a loss of five points in her ear, mumbled something she surely hadn't meant for Raven to hear, then went back to categorizing the Magical Creatures section. Dove rolled her eyes and turned back to the book she had summoned, and Raven settled herself in for a light kip.

Dove flipped through the index, scanning the pages. This was the last book she had to read through, and hopefully it would give her a bit more insight into their new situation. They'd had to procure special permission to get into the Restricted Section for it, but Professor Lupin had been plenty obliging. He'd had his reservations, naturally, as they'd refused to tell him what they were researching, but they'd promised that the results would be more helpful than harmful, and gave a quick Promise Charm to satisfy him. Now, sitting with the heavy leather-bound tome in her lap, she was very close to breaking that Promise Charm. If she didn't find what she was looking for in these pages, she would surely hex Draco Malfoy to within an inch of his life.

Finally, she found something promising. She turned quickly to the given page and settled in to read.

"Vik'sen are honorary sex demons renowned for their skills in assassination. One-quarter Succubus, one-quarter Siren, half mage. They have the abilities of Entrancing (song) and Sensuality (sexual prowess and skill). While their abilities do not cause death to any of the male species alone, when used together they can prove most fatal.

The Vik'sen are a rare breed of half-demon. Perhaps only a dozen will live every century. While the number of possible Vik'sen are slightly greater, few ever achieve true status. To attain the full title of Vik'sen Divinity, First Class, there are three requirements. Two of the requirements must be achieved through free will of the Dashmir, one must be passed down to her through blood.

The first requirement, the BloodLine, is decided for her. When a Succubus and a Siren form a rare partnership, they will allow their offspring, one half-blood from each, to procreate. The result of this extraordinary joining is called a Dashmir, and has the potential to become Vik'sen. Usually, the Siren and Succubus will raise the Dashmir themselves, teaching her to bring her voice and her sexual gifts to full potency. However, in more recent years, it is not entirely uncommon for the Siren and Succubus to abandon the Dashmir to a wizarding academy and go about their individual ways.

The second requirement, the BloodShare, is the Dashmir's decision as well as her first conscious step towards becoming Vik'sen. Upon reaching puberty (which ranges from the age of eight years old to twenty-five years old for a typical Dashmir), her blood begins to thin slightly. This is a result of the Siren's genes, albeit a much slighter version. A Siren lures her prey with song and renders them helpless, thus giving her the means to replenish her veins entirely, without which she would otherwise die from complete loss of blood. However, the Dashmir's song can only pose a state of semi-consciousness. This state, called Entrancement, is easily broken when the subject of it is distressed in any way. Thus, Entrancement usually proves fruitless in way of victims. It has therefore become tradition for a Dashmir to choose a benefactor. This wizard benefactor, the BloodKeeper, will house and feed the Dashmir, as well as providing them with a light, but steady, flow of their own blood. Once a month, the Blood Keeper will allow the Dashmir to replenish her thinning lifestream. In return, the Dashmir provides sexual and mental companionship, and takes on the duties of bodyguard and assassin. In the Middle Ages, a Dashmir or Vik'sen was a sign of great power and wealth among wizarding families. At the time, a Dashmir might have as many as ten wizarding families vying for her attention. It was a great honor to be chosen by a Dashmir as her BloodKeeper, and remains so even today amongst old wizarding lines.

The third requirement, the BloodFall, is a sacred ceremony carried out before the Dashmir's BloodKeeper. The BloodFall takes place one month after the Dashmir chooses her BloodKeeper. At this time, the BloodKeeper will choose their first victim. The Dashmir will lure the victim through Entrancement, Sensuality, or any other means possible, to the BloodKeeper's home. There, under the BloodKeeper's eye, the Dashmir will carry out her first assassination, thus binding herself to her BloodKeeper forever. Upon completion, the BloodKeeper presents the Dashmir with a gift and she is honored through him as Vik'sen Divinity, First Class."

After that, it went into a dreadfully detailed example of a Medieval BloodFall, which was conducted as the main entertainment of a large birthday party for a very prominent wizard. Dove shut her eyes, willing the page to rewrite itself into something more pleasant, but nothing she could do would change the circumstances. She and Raven would have to allow Lucius Malfoy to believe that they, as Dashmir, were choosing him as their BloodKeeper. The Entrancement they might be able to fake, and they had enough experience that he would never doubt their Sensuality, but the BloodSharing and BloodFall ceremonies might prove a bit more difficult. They certainly weren't in this to become killers, especially not for Malfoy.

Holding a blank sheet of parchment against the page, she muttered a quick "Simulo" and elbowed Raven in the stomach.

"Oomph! Eh?" she grumbled pathetically. Dove narrowed her eyes at her sister and muttered a few choice phrases. "Oi, alright. I'm coming."

The two girls stumbled out of their seats and grabbed their things. Dove returned the book to the Restricted Section, under Madame Pince's ever-watchful eye, and they both left. Upon returning to their room, Dove showed Raven what she'd found. After a few more colorful phrases describing some rather interesting possibilities involving Draco, a broom, and an aphrodisiac-induced mountain troll, they both settled down. They only had a few more days left, and they would need to settle into their roles well.

***

Severus Snape grumbled at his abominable luck. Already three cauldrons had exploded today, due entirely to the ineptitude of a classroom full of ignorant Hufflepuff Second Years, and now he was being invited to Lucius Malfoy's for a drink. He had tried to decline, on the basis that he had to keep an eye on the rowdier Slyths near to the weekend, but Lucius had summarily ignored his excuses and given him no way out. He could tell by the smug grin on Lucius' face that he was going to spend most of the night bragging about something or other, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was.

"Alright, Lucius. You've got me here. Now what do you want?" His tone was raspy and sharp, and he curled his lip to add distaste. But Lucius only handed him a small glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey and prompted him to sit down.

"Tsk, tsk, Severus. Surely you can relax for a few minutes at least. Have a drink and we'll talk a bit, shall we?" His eyes glittered dangerously and Snape knew he was in for it.

"Oh, cut to the chase, Lucius. You've got something you want to rub in my face, I can tell. So be done with it already and let me get back to Hogwarts. I've got exams to mark." He sipped at the liquor sullenly, willing the night to be over. Lucius, for his own part, did a half-arse impression of pouting before kicking into high gear.

"You always take the fun out of bragging. But this time, I know you'll be interesting, despite yourself." At this, Severus' ears perked up slightly. "I've just made the acquaintance of two rather remarkable girls. And I believe I'm very close to finally getting one of the only things I've ever had trouble acquiring." Now Snape was really intrigued. "Surely, you must know what I mean."

Snape racked his brain for an answer. _Something that Malfoy wanted, but couldn't get? Does such a thing exist? But he mentioned girls...perhaps it isn't a thing, but a person. Who could he possibly be interested in other than...Oh, no. It isn't possible. There haven't been any for nearly twenty-seven years now...But it makes sense... Cautiously, he looked up at Lucius for confirmation. And was surprised to see it written all over his face._

"You've guessed it! I know you have! And it's true, for you must be doubting it even as I speak." Snape's throat went dry at the thought of Malfoy with an exquisitely trained assassin under his command. "And I have come across not one, but two, Dashmirs. Two! And they will both be mine. Unless..." Snape became increasingly cautious as the conversation went on. _Surely, he doesn't mean..._

"I suppose you could have one, Severus. For a price, of course."

"What price?" Severus was careful to measure his voice as he spoke. It would not do to betray his worry. He was sure that he knew what Lucius was going to ask for, but he wasn't sure if it was worth it.

"The knife, Severus. I know you've got it. All I want is the futile knife. You never use it anyway. And wouldn't it be so much nicer to have a beautiful, young, _willing_ woman to do your very bidding?" Snape winced inwardly at the emphasis on "willing". But in spite of himself, he was rather interested. Still...could he ever let Lucius put his hands on the futile knife? _Does he even know what it can do?_

"Let me think about it," he said. "I really must go." Lucius looked disappointed, but gave in nevertheless.

"Alright. I'll be meeting with them this weekend anyway. It'll be nice to have them both to myself at least once. I'll tell you about them afterwards, and you can make your decision. And Severus," he took a hold of Snape's arm just before he'd managed to climb through the fireplace, "Be sure that you _do_ think about it." Snape nodded slightly then stepped through into his classroom.

***

It was nearly nine o'clock on Friday night, and the girls were getting antsy. Malfoy had never specified when he would summon them, only that it would be in two weeks. But Friday? Saturday? They couldn't be sure of his intentions, so they decided to prepare themselves for whenever he might request them. As soon as classes were done, they had run to their room. Slipping into their luxurious Everflowing Satin nightgowns and pulling their cloaks on over them. For a moment, they sat bathing in the feel of the glorious fabric, before snapping back to reality and finishing up. They managed their hair up into half-done buns, with curly locks bursting out onto their necks. A style which they found simply  haphazard, but tended to get remarkably high marks from the opposite sex. A few well-placed hair-removing charms got their legs smooth and their underarms flawless, some slight beauty enhancing spells sharpened the eye to their best facial, and figure, features without the bother of make-up. Even magic make-up, they'd found early on, had a tendency to rub off in the throes of passion. And men didn't particularly like to find rouge on their underthings.

After a few other minor preparations, all they had to do was sit and wait. They'd contemplated a quick encounter with Draco, to run over things one last time, but decided that it would only fray their nerves further. So, at nine o'clock on a Friday evening, they were awaiting a summons they weren't sure they wanted to receive. They had almost begun to hope that it would wait until the next night, when the owl came swooping in. A silver parchment canister was attached to its leg, and they untied it quickly, giving the owl leave to go. Popping open the top, they both reached in to grab the tiny scroll inside. Upon touching it, they both disappeared.

***

Wowie was shaking everywhere. She had never liked the man before her much, and she absolutely hated him now. Next to this man, the Master seemed almost kind and thoughtful. She feared for her true Mistress, if she should have to encounter this man. As her thoughts reeled, and her nerves exploded, she heard a slight sound of wood on wood. From a side door, her Master entered.

"Stop teasing the bloody house-elf, Avery. I've just summoned them." Her Master spoke quickly, but without feeling, as if he was distracted. He eyed the man for a moment, then disappeared again. Avery looked at Wowie a bit longer, then released her from the Cruciatus Curse. Chuckling to himself, he followed after her Master. If she hadn't been paying so much attention to the strange visitor, she might have heard her Master muttering that hated spell...

***

A strange tugging sensation had stretched from their very centers out. They had only Portkeyed a few times before, and it was always an interesting sensation. Even more so when you weren't expecting it. When they had finally felt their feet back on solid ground, they had gasped at their surroundings. A gorgeous room, priceless art, beautiful furniture, and all manner of interesting things in glass cases. From a side door, Lucius Malfoy entered. The girls braced themselves, positive that they would be able to feel the evil radiating off of him. But as he stepped closer, they saw that this wasn't true.

While Raven could see the malicious undertones, and cruel streaks woven throughout his Fabric, it was all very easily threaded into other things which seemed quite harmless. She'd never seen anything like it. A man whose nature was so inherently deceitful that his own Fabric strived to deceive. But Dove could not see his Fabric, only his face and body. He looked very handsome in his tailored robes, and his eyes were clear with intelligence. They marveled at how he could be so unlike what they had expected of him. Instead of the sneer they had expected to encounter, a lovely smile graced his features. And when he spoke, he was charming. Any other girl wouldn't have stood a chance. But Dove had Raven to anchor her.

Dove and Raven had seen all manner of beautiful faces and handsome features, tailored clothes and pretty words. Such wonderful things were usually followed by disgusting requests of bedroom play, and twisted wishes of intimate encounters. Raven thought casually and reminded Dove of one such man, and Dove regained herself admirably. Lucius never noticed a thing.

"Dove. Raven." He nodded to each in turn. "It is a pleasure to have you here." He began with all manner of lovely phrases, but everything after their names went in one ear and right out the other. They were both oblivious to what he said because they'd noticed the man who had entered immediately after him. This man, rather than Malfoy whom they'd feared, absolutely radiated evil. Even Dove could feel it.

After a few moments, they saw Malfoy gesture towards this man, and they both tuned back in to learn whatever they could of him.

"...is Patrick Avery. I thought it would be unwise, and rather selfish, of me to meet you both at once," the girls shuddered slightly at the connotation behind the word "meet", "and have thus invited my friend Avery to assist me." The girls looked at each other, flashes of worried thoughts ran back and forth too quick for them to decipher. They hadn't counted on being split up. They steadied themselves, and glanced back up at the two men in front of them. Two matching grins, one deceitfully pleasant, and the other blatantly cruel, shot back at them. And two twin chills raced down the girls' backs.

***

Wowie struggled to keep herself together. Her tiny lavender form was ready to split into millions of tiny pieces. _Wowie hates being locked in this damn cell again! Why would the Master do this? Who will watch over the Master when Wowie is locked up? Master needs Wowie!_ But the cell was set up with very specific charms to keep house-elves – and their extremely powerful magic – inside. Shaking with worry, she blocked out thoughts of that evil Avery man.

Suddenly, a strange feeling overtook her. An oddly familiar feeling. A feeling that had deserted her years before. A feeling that she had only just recently been reminded of. _The Mistress..._

***

Dove and Raven struggled to keep their faces impassively seductive. Seduction was a trick they knew all too well, and they were glad to be able to fall into a routine. If they'd been forced to keep everything at the front of their minds at once, they might very well have short-circuited their own brains. They were glad to leave Patrick Avery in another room, following after Malfoy like puppy dogs, but they uncomfortable to know that he was here.

_What do you think he meant about Avery assisting him? You don't think he meant-_

_I think that's exactly what he meant_, Raven snapped back. She thought a quick apology, but kept her eyes on Malfoy's back. _Best to watch him..._

_Yes, alright. But Raven...if we get split up..._

_Yeah, i know. Just try not to think about it, okay?_

Dove nodded her head slightly, and walked into the room they'd just seen Lucius disappearing into. It was plain and empty. The only outstanding characteristic were the walls. They were painted a bright green which nearly hurt their eyes at the sight of it.

_The green room. The other entrance to his father's rooms, do you remember?_

_Yes! That means that she's just across the hall from us!_

_But how are we going to get over there?_

_I'm not sure. I suppose one of us will have to distract him_. Dove put the slightest emphasis on the word "distract", and both girls sighed inwardly. They'd never wanted to do this again, never wanted to be this...but it was too late. They would never be innocent again. Not like other girls. They were damaged, broken. And no amount of time would diminish that. Steeling themselves and preparing for the tedious night to come, they stepped inside. And just as the door shut behind them, a depressing thought raced through Dove's mind.

_I'll bet nobody's even noticed we're gone..._

***

Severus Snape waited patiently as the First Year girl went to fetch the twins. He'd been unable to find Draco and was confident that they might know where he was. The two girls had become rather chummy with the pale-haired boy lately. And while he didn't necessarily enjoy the thought of them with the likes of a Malfoy, he was also aware that there was a better chance of them having a good impact on him, than of his having a bad impact on them.

The blonde-haired girl came back hesitantly, her eyes darting restlessly about as if unsure to relay whatever news she possessed.

"Speak up, girl. Are they coming?" he thundered. He was patient, yes. But he was not going to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Th-the...they're not coming, sir!" she blurted out. She immediately looked stricken, horrified that he might decapitate her for not bringing what he had asked of her. He could almost see her cringing in fear.

"What do you mean 'they're not coming'?" He spoke slowly and quietly. And it had a much greater effect on her than any obscenity he might have screamed instead.

"They aren't here, sir." She whispered. Her voice was ragged with fear, and despite his frustration at the twins' absence, he was enjoying his mischief immensely.

"It is past curfew, is it not?" She nodded her head vigorously. "So they should be in their common room, correct?" Another crazy nod. "But they are not in the common room. And I have personally searched the castle. So where are they?" He'd just finished his rounds earlier. He would resume them of course, but not until after this little mystery was cleared up.

She stood, frozen, unable to piece together any comprehensible thoughts. As he muttered to himself about the girl's obvious lack of steely nerve, he suddenly realized what he'd said. They were not in the common room. They were not in their room. They were not in the castle. His eyes widened a fraction and he very nearly sputtered in outrage. Instead, he growled something at the girl, causing her to slink back to her room in tears, and stormed back to his office.

***

Dove and Raven would have been humiliated if they were capable of such an emotion. Curious as to their capabilities, Lucius' first request was for a striptease and a song. While quite capable, singing was just not something they were fond of doing in front of strangers. But they could only smile slyly and move into position. Raven had the grand fortune of going first.

Putting one hand over the clasp on her robes, she started into the first verso of the only song that popped into her head. Unfortunately, it was a rather bouncy pop kind of song by Rufus Wainwright. And while she was fairly certain it hadn't even been released in this time yet, she absolutely could not think of anything else. So, as she began to smoothly loosen her cloak from her shoulders, she slowed the tempo and lowered her voice to an octave that the greater percent of men found "sexy", while she fervently prayed that Lucius didn't pay close attention to the latest releases of Muggle singers.

"_Cigarettes and chocolate milk_

_These are just a couple of my cravings_

_Everything I like it seems'_

_A little bit stronger_

_A little bit thicker_

_A little bit harmful for me_"

She wanted to flinch at the corniness of the song. But while she wished she'd thought of something a bit more appropriate, she felt sure that Lucius would appreciate the dark humor in the lyrics. Hopefully.

As she sang, she dropped the heavy cloak from around her shoulders and ran her hands smoothly down her sides. She put on a face that most men interpreted as "Oh, I love the way I feel, and I can't wait until you try me out". Although, under these circumstances, it was probably a bit closer to "Oh, I can't wait until my hands are wrapped around your neck, crushing the very life-force out of you". Possibly followed by a cheerleadery giggle.

Lucius' eyes glazed over as he watched her hands move, exploring her arms and legs, and especially her hips. He seemed to enjoy her curvier features, so she made a mental note to linger there. He was impressed with her night gown, obviously (according to the slight tent he was beginning to develop at his crotch), but she was sure that he was unaware of the special fabric itself. And unless she was willing to give him a quick feel (which might possibly result in another less-than-quick feel), it was useless to pause for very long.

She launched into the chorus and sweetly began to pull her nightdress off. His breath became a bit sharper as he saw hints of the soft skin beneath. He was absolutely lost in her when the fabric was dropped.

Unwilling, however, to lose either her bra or panties just yet (if she could help it at all), she cut out the last two verses of the song and pulled it all to a close. With a flourish, she licked her lips and blew a stray strand of hair from her face. This seemed to snap him back. He gazed at her appreciatively, a look which both flattered and disgusted her. Reaching for her nightgown, she replaced it over her body along with her cloak, all the while maintaining her sexy facade, never letting her eyes leave him. If she gave him the impression that she wanted him as well but was able to control herself, he would be that much more interested in getting her to lose control.

He nodded at her and motioned for Dove to stand before him. She complied quickly and easily, moving every bit as easily as Raven had. Luckily, she'd had a bit more time to think about her choice of song. She wasn't entirely happy with it, but it would do. Varying her movements a bit more than Raven, and giving herself a more innocent appearance, she sang in a lovely soprano, slowly and with a breathy hush that Marilyn Monroe would have envied.

"_The minute you walked through the door_

_I could tell you were a man of distinction_

_A real big spender_

_Good-looking...so refined_

_Wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind?_

_Well, let me get right to the point_

_I don't pop my cork for every guy I see_

_Hey, big spender_

_Spend a little time with me_"

She had to do a bit of handiwork with the chorus, as it was supposed to be sung in three parts, but she caught him leaning in towards her once or twice, a very good sign for what she was trying to accomplish. He seemed absolutely taken with the way she could convey such intimacy and innocence, especially while moving with such seductive efforts. When she'd just removed her nightgown, she made the conscious decision to step towards him, and softly draped one arm behind his back. With her other hand, she gently dragged her nightgown across his neck, and he sighed aloud at the intense stroke.

As soon as her voice trailed off, the last remnants of the song barely wavering in the air, he was on his feet. He softly grabbed her wrists, pulling her in towards him and inhaled her scent. She nearly started at eh quick movements, but caught herself in time. As he breathed her in, she returned the gesture, softly sniffing at his neck. His chest released a soft gasp at the tingling sensation, and he looked down into her eyes. She gave him her best doe-eyed expression, and she could almost feel him melting. Aware of her sister's victory, Raven sat down.

As soon as she did, however, the chair squeaked its protest. Lucius turned to her, suddenly aware of her presence. Looking back and forth between she and Dove, he made a quick decision and walked to Raven.

"Go downstairs. Find Avery. He'll tell you what to do." And with that, he'd turned away from her. Feeling dejected, and afraid that she may have somehow harmed the situation, she left. But rather than going straight downstairs, she walked directly across the hall. There was no doorway here, but she knew from Draco that it was the entrance to Narcissa's rooms. She put her hand on the wall and muttered "Heartstring", stepping back quickly as the wall seemed to disappear. She stepped forward into a large room. A bedroom. It may have been decorated with some floral design, or it could have been absolutely bare. She could not tell because it was nearly impossibly dark.

She stepped forward and whispered "Lumos" before moving on. Against the far wall was a large bed. She walked over to it and sat down next to the figure lying under the heavy duvet. The figure's eyes fluttered momentarily, and several raspy breaths were taken. But Raven held her lighted wand up to her own face, and the figure's eyes filled with understanding and gratitude. Quickly and quietly, Raven set to work.

***

On his way out to the grounds, Snape ran into Professor Lupin. He scowled and brushed the man aside. Then, realizing where the werewold had probably been, he thought better of himself. Turning slightly back, he called out to the other man.

"Yes?" came the wary response.

"Lupin. You've been in the Forbidden Forest, correct?" A hesitant nod met him. "Did you see anyone else out there? Students?"

"No," was the immediate response. "Of course not. There were no students out there. Why? Are you looking for someone?" Suspicion began to scrawl itself across the other man's features and Snape growled.

"Certainly not. I was only checking. I'm just going to check the grounds quickly. Watch for anyone out past curfew." With that, he turned and stalked away.

***

As Lucius began to undress Dove, pulling her into another room...with a bed, she turned her thoughts to her sister. _I hope she's alright_.

At the same time, Raven was just finishing up her ministrations to the poor woman lying beside her. Her fingers ached from the extensive efforts she'd put them through, and her back was sore from bending over Narcissa's wounded Fabric for so long. When she'd mended what she could, she spoke to Narcissa. A few quick words of encouragement, and a reminder to wait for her sister. She also made sure that Narcissa understood that she would have to make her recovery seem natural. When she was certain that Narcissa understood, she leant slightly back to admire her work.

Even with her illness, Narcissa looked amazingly better. Her skin was darker, her eyes brighter, and she moved with a bit more of her naturally fluid grace. Raven reeled at the similarities between Narcissa's Fabric and Draco's. But she could not let her mind wander for long. She bid Narcissa a quick farewell and left the room, making her way down to the room in which they'd left Avery. While certain that the man could not have known that she had been stalling, she did not want to give him any great cause become angry. She was unhappy to admit that she was a bit afraid of him. She'd never seen a Fabric like his before. It was sharp, jagged. And she couldn't see where the different pieces met or separated. It was absolutely unreadable, and it frightened her.

She walked quietly into the room he was occupying. He sat idly in a high-backed chair before a fire. The empty look on his face sent another shudder down her spine. _He seems to have that effect on people_, she thought, and nearly went into hysterics. _What is this man?_ But before she could answer her own question, he turned to her. And a great fire ignited in his eyes.

"You're late."

***

Severus made his way around the perimeter once more. He was cold and near to shivering, but he had still seen no sign of the two girls.

"Where the hell are they?!" he shouted angrily. But the sound gave him no comfort. The still night only managed to disquiet him further. He sat down heavily on a large rock near the lake and tried to slow his breathing. He settled his palms on his thighs and closed his eyes. Taking deep slow breaths, he tried to focus on the task at hand. But just as he was calming down, a loud splash sounded and he looked up. He saw nothing for a moment, his eyes readjusting for the slight sparkle the moon left on the surface of the lake.

As he looked, he found the source of the ripples. He peered out, trying to see what had interrupted him, what was out of bed at this time of night. Then he saw it. Or rather...her. Barely bobbing below the surface. She was obviously struggling to keep herself afloat, but only one of her arms seemed to be working and it was throwing off her balance in the water. She kept paddling and tilting to one side, spluttering for air. Snape reached for his wand-

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" The voice came seemingly from nowhere. Snape looked all about him, trying to find the source of it. He saw, just fleetingly, a figure on a broom, hovering above the drowning girl, its wand pointed at her. She drifted lazily above the water, wavering slightly, and finally landing with a soft thud beside Professor Snape. He stared openmouthed as the figure on the broom immediately flew away.

A wretched coughing sounded beside him, and his thoughts were pulled back to the girl. She had landed painfully on her stomach, her legs flailed about her and one arm dangling in a strange way out beside her. The arm was obviously broken, and there was blood positively pouring from her. Cuts and scratches, bruises and tears splattered her body, and he mumbled quick drying and warming charms. He moved to turn her over, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he recognized the face.

"Raven?!"

***

"hey, you!" cried the author. "read and review, please!" and then she pointed to the bottom left-hand corner of the page. there was a small button there, gray and dull. but the author knew that if the reader clicked on it, she would be happy.

so do it!


	14. Strange Bedfellows

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Fourteen: Strange Bedfellows

***

Anxiously, Severus Snape pulled at the cloak around his shoulders, unclasping it and throwing it over the girl before him. There was no answer, no response. She just lay there, broken and bloodied, flailed about in a most unseeming manner. Carefully tucking her arm so as not to disturb the splintered bone, he picked her up and began to walk quickly towards the castle. He scanned the corridors for any sign of latewalkers, but there was only silence. He began to make his way toward the infirmary, when he heard a slight gurgling.

"Whe-where...?" she managed thickly. She coughed and her body shifted, nearly throwing Snape off balance.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary, you insolent girl. That's where. What were you doing out there?!" he said it all in one breath, and quietly so as not to disturb anyone, or anything, that might be lurking about.

"No. Dove. Where...?" She strangled the words out of her throat, hacking halfway through. But she just managed to turn her head to look at her unlikely savior. She stared up at him, her eyes boring into his own, giving him endless bouts of self-consciousness. But there was no confusion, no anger, nothing else in those eyes. Her eyes gave the impression that all was as it should be, but Severus knew better. Nothing was ever as it should be.

Finally, he understood what she was asking. _Dove. Where is Dove?_ "You want to know where Dove is?"

Her head shook silently and slowly. _Yes_. His heart dropped. He realized he'd been expecting her to know. But she seemed as clueless as he felt. "I don't know where she is. I assumed she was with you."

"She was." His ears perked up at this. Well, if Dove had been with Raven, then he only needed to know where Raven had been. But where Raven had been...this had happened to her. Was he going to run across Dove in the same hapless way?

"Where were you, Raven? I must know. In case this happens to your sister. We have to find Dove." His voice rose and sped up as his anxiety rose. Only a certain type of mage would do something like this, and he didn't want to think about those mages right now.

"No. Dove's...safer than I was. Different-" She paused to take a ragged breath. "Has to mend. I can't hear her. No, we must wait for her."

"Wait for her?" He blurted it out before thinking about it. That was a bad sign, Snape had to keep himself under control. A steadying breath before continuing, this time more forceful. "Why must we wait for her?"

"So that we can mend each other. Pomfrey can't help this. Only we can. Nobody else must know." He paused suddenly. They were just before the infirmary.

"Pomfrey can't help?" he questioned quietly.

"No. She can heal, but not help. Too many questions. Nobody else must know. Tell her she may." Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she passed out.

He stood in front of the door to Madame Pomfrey's office, trying to determine the best course of action. After a minute of thought, he decided she was right. Whatever they'd done, it wouldn't help to advertise it. It would be best for them to heal each other privately if they could. But in the mean time she would need rest, and he could brew a few potions that might help with the pain. Shifting the now-limp body in his arms, he turned immediately around and stalked quietly toward the dungeons.

***

Back at Malfoy Manor, Dove sat on the edge of the bed, quietly pulling her garments back on. As she dressed, she kept her eyes on the man sleeping beside her. She hated the thought, but he was positively angelic when he was asleep. Lucius turned slightly, and she leaned over, checking his pulse. It was considerably slower than it had been only a few minutes before. She cast a quick dream spell on him, ensuring herself a fair amount of time, then snuck out and across the hallway. Approaching the same empty wall and murmuring the same password as her sister, she stepped through the new non-existent barrier and entered Narcissa Malfoy's room. She walked quickly to the bed and sat. She had no time for pleasantries, Lucius would wake up eventually. So she nodded slightly at the woman in bed and immediately began her work.

Twenty minutes later, she had nearly finished. With a quick flick of her wrist over the woman's heart, she sped up the faint beat and the blood began to circulate at a normal rate once more. The woman's face was brilliant, almost glowing with enthusiasm for her newfound health. Her skin was soft, no longer mottled and clammy. Her hair was still a bit tangled and askew, but she was breathing strongly and moving with ease.

"Please, Mrs. Malfoy, remember to heal gradually. If they find out what we've done..." She left the statement unfinished, unwilling that Narcissa might mistake it as some sort of threat.

"Of course, dear girl. Don't worry, I was a Slytherin as well. Thank you. And thank your sister for me when you see her. I will never forget this." With that, the woman closed her eyes and fell asleep. The first peaceful slumber she'd enjoyed in months. Dove immediately relaxed at the sight. They'd done it. Everything would be alright now. She stumbled out of the room and back to Lucius, who was still sleeping happily. Crawling beneath the covers, she whispered "Enervate" and pretended to be disturbed awake by his movements.

He yawned and looked over at her. He nodded at her thickly and then turned over, falling right back to sleep. For a moment, Dove was lost. Then she realized what had happened. He'd dismissed her. Unbeknownst to her, and himself actually, he'd also dismissed poor little Wowie from her cell. This was how it came that Dove Thomas ran right into Wowie on her way downstairs.

They both stared for an undetermined amount of time. The strange waves of familiarity crashed over both of them and neither spoke. Then, a tiny lavender hand reached out to touch Dove's own, and when their fingers met, the little thing squeaked.

"Mistress Daven! You is here!"

***

Severus walked smoothly through the darkness in his rooms, collecting ingredients and mixing them appropriately. Raven was still unconscious, asleep on his bed. It would be considerably easier to make an excuse for her being in the dungeons than it would be for him being in her room. So he had gently laid her out on the large soft bed, covering her with blankets and soft pillows, and starting a light blaze in the fireplace beside. She had stirred only momentarily once after he'd brought her here, and he would have to rouse her to take the potion he was making. But otherwise, all was still.

He stirred in the last of the chopped fumblebud weeds and let it simmer slightly. When it reached a brilliant orange-y hue, he poured it easily into a glass and took it to the sleeping girl. Gently nudging her, he whispered soft energy charms until her eyes opened. Carefully, he held the glass to his lips.

"Here, drink this. It won't-" She held her lips to the glass and leaned her head back, successfully downing it all in one gulp. "-hurt you," he finished lamely. He was unused to such simple faith. She hadn't even asked him what was in it. It was as if she just...trusted him.

Before he could continue this interesting train of thought, Raven bolted upright. "She's here!"

He was momentarily caught by surprise. But he dismissed the feeling and spoke urgently. "Who's here, Raven?"

"Dove. You have to go get her. I told her I was here, but she doesn't believe me."

"What do you mean you told her? How could you tell her?" Hmm...perhaps this potion has side effects I was unaware of...

"Our thoughts. I thought to her. But she doesn't believe me. She's standing outside the classroom wondering where I am." He started at this information, but didn't have time to process it before Raven passed out again. He sighed, but decided to check anyway. _It couldn't hurt._

He was very surprised then, when he found Dove right outside the classroom as Raven had said. She looked at him with understandable trepidation, but he nodded at her and turned. For a moment, a glimmer of understanding sparked in Snape's eyes. _"I thought to her" she'd said_. But it was forgotten in the sight of Dove's unprovoked worry. She followed after him without question and neither spoke until they were safely in his warded chambers. As soon as she saw Raven, she ran to her. She knelt beside the bed and her eyes filled up, but Snape was surprised to see that she did not cry, didn't even sniffle. She simply stared at her sister's broken body.

"May I?" she whispered towards her sister's bruised face. She closed her eyes when no answer came forth.

Severus suddenly realized what Dove was asking her sister, and spoke quickly. "She said you may. When I brought her here, she said 'Tell her she may.'"

Dove chuckled lightly at Raven's foresight and nodded. Then she reached out both hands and began to heal her sister. As she did, she spoke.

"What happened to her?" Severus was surprised at the question. Once again, he'd assumed that she would know.

"I'm not sure. I found her like this outside." Dove's head drooped for a moment.

"I never should have let her go to him. Damn him! And she should have known better. She should have seen it in his Fabric. What was she thinking?" Now Snape could tell that she was only muttering to herself. She'd blocked him out and was mumbling nothings. "Fucking Avery. I'll kill him."

Snape's heart went cold. "What did you just say?" She looked up at him, surprised that she had been talking, surprised that he had been listening.

"I'm going to kill him." She said it with such ease and assurance that Snape felt a chill run down his spine. But it was not what had disturbed him.

"No, the first part."

"Fucking Avery. He did this to her."

"Avery? Patrick Avery?"

"Yes." She didn't ask how he knew of the man, or wonder why he spoke so sharply, she just answered his questions and healed her sister.

"Dove, where were you?"

This time, she paused. Her hands stopped moving, her eyes stopped blinking, Snape even thought for a moment that she had stopped breathing. "I'm not sure I should tell you."

"I don't care whether or not you should tell me. You will tell me."

She hesitated, but gave in. She was far too concentrated on Raven to care what she said now.

"We were at Malfoy Manor."

Severus could feel the air leave his lungs, but he somehow managed to speak anyway. "And what were you doing at Malfoy Manor?"

"Draco's mother was ill. We healed her."

"Is that all?"

Again, the momentary hesitation, but this time he wasn't sure she would answer. So he asked again.

"Is that all?"

"No."

"What did you do there, Dove?"

"We..." But she could not finish the sentence. For the first time in years, she was humiliated. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to know. She didn't want to see the disappointment that always came with the admittance.

He understood. It made sense. They were the young vik'sen, the potential assassins. _Two girls, he'd said. Two girls_. But he'd also said that Snape could have one. Severus' mind reeled with thoughts as he struggled to find a way...any way...but there was nothing. Lucius wanted the knife, _that damn futile knife_. And nothing else would satisfy him. Quietly, Severus walked over to a chest at the foot of his bed. Extracting a key from his robes, he placed it in a hidden lock near the bottom of the chest and turned. A small drawer sprang out softly and he pulled the contents from within. Wrapped within layers and layers of silk, there lay a knife.

***

Wowie staggered up the stairs to check on her Master. He was sleeping peacefully. Not unusual for him, he always slept well after sex. He would sleep late the next morning, and Wowie was grateful for the temporary release. The silencing spells on his room would allow her free reign of the kitchens without fear of his intrusion. The Avery man had already left a long time ago. Ages ago. There had been a loud ruckus, and Wowie had heard a great deal of shouting, but when she had emerged a short while ago, there was nobody to be seen. The room he had occupied had been torn to shreds somehow, chairs overturned, books on the floor, paintings haphazard on the wall, and one window was smashed. The remaining glass was scattered just inside on the carpet. But with a few flicks of her wrist and some light pops, the room was back in order.

Her last thought was to check on the Mistress. If she was awake, Wowie might be able to feed her some light broth. Wowie liked the Mistress, and had been doing everything within her power to help her. If the Master hadn't forbidden her, in a moment of rage, from healing the Mistress, such unpleasantries would be unnecessary. Sometimes, Wowie thought angry things about her Master. But she punished herself afterwards, and all was forgotten.

As she made her way to the Mistress' rooms, she thought back on the night. So many confusing aspects...the letter two weeks ago, the strange visits from the young Master, the evil Avery man...and then her Mistress. Right here in this very manor, alive and well, albeit slightly different from how Wowie remembered her. Her hair was different, and her eyes, and she was considerably older...but it had been her. For a moment, Wowie entertained the idea of visiting her former Mistress, but the girl had not seemed to remember her loyal house-elf, there was only the sharpest spark of familiarity. And if it was so, then Wowie's reappearance could only cause more confusion. Sighing heavily, Wowie entered the darkened rooms and was astonished at what she found.

***

Dove refused to answer Snape. She would not speak another word until she had finished healing Raven. There were only a few minor wounds left and the broken arm to set, but it required the very last of her concentration. Any attempts at conversation, no matter how severely important, would be useless. It had been two hours since she had arrived, and her mind was full to flowing with questions. _What happened back there? Why didn't I hear it? Why didn't she think to me? How did she get back here? What will we do?_ Tears threatened to burst forth, but she was simply too busy to bother with crying.

As she pinched together the last stray cut, Dove let out a long sigh. Dismissing Snape's presence as an illusion created by her tired mind, pushing all thoughts of the last twenty-four hours down, she climbed up onto the bed and curled up next to her sister. Within seconds, she was asleep, snoring lightly into her sister's shoulder. Severus looked on, curious. Two girls were in his rooms after curfew, curled up in each other's arms on his bed. On any other night, concerning any other two girls, he might have thought it was weird, impossible. But tonight he merely accepted it at face value.

Picking up the silk-shrouded knife in his slender hands, he sat down in a chair by the fire and looked it over. It was a rather plain knife, really. It was a slight silver metal with a scarred wooden handle. Threads of some silvery substance weaved in and out on the handle forming various pictures. On one side was an angel with wings wide open, on the other was an angel with wings closed. The images suddenly struck him with a bit more significance as he looked on at the two girls. But the edges of the blade were what made it so...special. They tapered off to a point where the eye could not follow.

Three such knives had been made. One subtle, one futile, one humble. Each had the same engraved handles, each had the same impossibly sharp edges, and each cut into something that should never be cut into. One, the humble knife, the divider of time-space, had been melted down eventually. It had been too dangerous. Any strange movement threw the bearer into another time-plane of existence. The threats and possibilities were too many. So the knife had been broken and separated, melted into molten time, and had been used to make the first time-turners. The second, the subtle knife, the separator of worlds, had been lost for years. Brandished by stupid men, it had also been a cause for much controversy, shifting the other dimensions and creating havoc. But eventually one boy had managed to tame and destroy the knife and its terrors.

The last and only remaining blade, the futile knife, had been passed from wizarding family to wizarding family for years. The truth and nature of its powers were myth to those who heard of it, a source of potentially unlimited power to those who held it. It had literally fallen into Snape's hands eight years before. The futile knife...the breaker of souls. Snape himself had never mustered the courage to touch it with his bare hands.

If Malfoy was only looking for another trophy, Snape could give it to him under false pretenses, help discourage him from the girls, and eventually get it back. But if Malfoy knew what he was asking for...then why was he asking? _Why not simply take it and be done?_

He heard the bed creaking across from him and looked up to see Raven stirring. She sat up slowly, testing her body for weaknesses, then bolted upright when she felt her renewed strength. She looked at Dove for a moment, checking her breathing, feeling her pulse. After some slight prodding, she decided that Dove's Fabric had survived admirably, with hardly a misplaced thread. A sign that she had grown used to such unbecoming activity, no doubt. When her prodding and eyeing was done, she finally took sight of her surroundings. She gasped as she caught Snape's eye and looked down abruptly.

Silently, Snape berated himself for any actions or words that might ever cause her to avoid his eye. In the next moment, he berated himself for such trivial thoughts. In order to keep himself from any further thoughts, he spoke.

"You seem better."

"Yes, thank you." No hesitation or stuttering, only straightforwardness. He applauded inwardly at her caution. _It could save her life one day...if only she had employed it tonight._

"I know where you were." A slight tremor in her lips, but nothing more. "And I know why you were there." Another, stronger tremor, but nothing else. "Now I want to know the rest."

Raven nodded after only a moment's hesitation.

"We had to do it. For Draco, and for his mother. We only meant it to be tonight, but Draco accidentally...well, we can't stop now. He thinks he owns us, Lucius does. And if he ever thinks otherwise, he'll kill us or Draco or Draco's mother...perhaps all of us." She was quiet then, as if gathering her thoughts. But her next words were spoken with such speed and force that Snape barely had time to make sense of them. "We tried to change, honest. But I guess we'll always be whores."

The self-deprecation and –loathing stunned him, but it was the last line that caught him by surprise. "What do you mean, you'll 'always be whores'?"

Raven looked confused for a moment, but her attention was claimed soon afterward by a soft knock. The confusion doubled, for both Raven and Snape, when Albus Dumbledore popped in, his trademark twinkle only slightly dimmed.

The Headmaster conjured a large comfortable chair, sat down with a sigh, and called for a house-elf. "I believe I'm just in time. Perhaps some tea before we start?"

***


	15. Forgiving Explanations

i wish i was clever enough to have thought of an anti-litigation charm. however, as is, i suppose you'll have to settle for some light whining, and a plea against. love to j.l. matthews, monkeys and bananas, oneturnouttatune, j, and michelle!

The Winged Serpents

Chapter Fifteen: Forgiving Explanations

***

Raven and Severus sat, openmouthed, staring at the spot where Dumbledore was sipping tea. For all that had happened, he could have been there to discuss plans for a murder-mystery dinner party. Although, Raven felt sure that if Dumbledore and Snape really knew what had happened, there just might be a murder, and it would be no mystery to any of the parties involved. Silently, she cursed herself for allowing things to progress so far, but was brought up short when Dumbledore spoke.

"Now, Raven, if you wouldn't mind telling me exactly what happened this evening?" His customary twinkle was still in place, surprisingly enough, although his tone was somber. Immediately, Raven knew that it would be useless to lie. He already knew, he just wanted clarification. _Figure_s, she thought unhappily, _that I would be the one who has to explain it all_.

After clearing her throat a tad longer than necessary, she launched into it. Starting with the conversation that she and Dove had had with Draco, she worked her way through the process and plan, described the letter from Lucius in detail, and even managed to remember what cologne she had smelled on Malfoy upon arriving at his Manor. She described everything to the best of her ability and left nothing out, until she got to Avery.

"He was just sitting there. And then he looked up at me...and he looked so _empty_, so _evil_. He said, 'You're late,' and then..." She stopped, trying to process the information for herself before speaking, unwilling to get any of it wrong. She looked up at Dumbledore softly, trying to determine if this is really what he wanted to know...but the weary understanding in his face was all she needed to continue. She spoke roughly, haltingly, and refused to look at Snape's astonished features.

"He took my wand. One simple spell, and it was gone. I hadn't expected it, so I wasn't ready at all. Then...I don't even know half of the hexes and curses he threw at me. I recognized a few, the Bone-Cruncher Curse, the Slashing Spell, and the like. Oh, and Cruciatus, lots of that." She muttered it as an afterthought, even going so far as to add a bit of self-deprecating sarcasm in her voice, trying to distract the two men from what she'd actually said. But from the intake of breath, she knew it was useless. Luckily, neither of them spoke. "Anyway, after about an hour or so, maybe two...he just got bored, I guess. Never laid a finger on me either, now that I think of it. He started to cast the Killing Curse on me..." Another, sharper, intake of breath, so she continued on quickly. "But just as he got out the first half, the window exploded." Her eyes glazed over a bit as she tried to recall the details. "Somebody came flying in through the window on a broom, robes and cloak flying everywhere, hood up so I couldn't see who they were, and they just picked me up. Avery was so stunned, he didn't even move. Just watched as we flew back out the window. We flew so fast...I tried to figure out who the person was...anyway, I passed out eventually. Next thing I know, I'm cold and wet and nothing makes sense. Then I was here."

Dumbledore looked sorrowful, and Snape only looked stricken. Raven sat in the silence, relishing it, afraid that someone might speak and remind her that what she'd just said was real, had actually happened. But as she stared at the two men before her, she realized she couldn't handle the silence any longer. The weight of her assumptions was making it desperately hard for her to breathe. She felt the sudden urge to atone for sins, to repent, to confess. Anything to take away the guilt that was swallowing her alive.

"I'm sorry, Professors. I know we should have... Well, I'm not sure what we should have done. But, granted, that probably wasn't it."

"You're damn right that wasn't it! What were you thinking?! How could you two go- What were you thinking?! You were nearly _killed_! Of all the stupid, thoughtless, inconsiderate-"

"Severus." At Dumbledore's quiet word, Snape shut up. He was seething, red with fury, his very eyes blazed, burning into Raven's heart. She wanted to cry, to sob, to whimper and shake with sadness. But instead, she kept her face blank, staring at the red-hot anger that embodied her professor. Dumbledore turned to Raven and spoke, softly, but with a strength that compelled her to answer. "Raven. I understand why you did this. But was there no other way?"

She shook her head, dejected. "No, sir. There was no other way."

He nodded briefly and returned to his tea, a thoughtful expression dancing across his face.

"Insolent girl. Foolish, stupid, insolent girl. Of all the..." Snape began to mutter quietly again. He didn't seem to be talking to Raven anymore, only speaking for the sake of getting it all out. But suddenly, Raven was tired of it. _What right does he have to judge me?_ she thought angrily. _Like he's never done anything wrong in his life. Like his life isn't full of mistakes too. At least I was doing it to help someone!_

"That! Is! Enough!" she bellowed. Snape froze, stunned at the intensity in her voice and words, and clearly taken aback at having been addressed in such a manner. "I am sick of this! Why are you being so gods-damn judgmental?!" Her breath came out heavily, her chest heaving. She waited, her eyebrows raised, looking for an answer. Any answer.

"You were going to sleep with him!" Hmm...not the answer she'd been expecting.

"That's what we do!"

"What are you talking about?!" Now he just seemed confused. Then, pieces began to click together in Raven's head. The comment about their mother, the slight hints of misunderstanding, _What do you mean, you'll "always be whores"?_

She looked to the Headmaster for confirmation. When she saw the quiet reproach on his face, she knew. It fit. "Oh gods. He doesn't know."

Snape looked back and forth between Raven and Albus. It occurred to him that Raven obviously thought he'd known something he simply did not know. It also occurred to him that he might not want to know what it was. But, for the sake of furthering his understanding, he asked anyway. "What is it? What don't I know? Albus?"

Albus simply looked at Raven, his eyes softening, the twinkle returning. "I did not see any reason to inform him, no."

"Oh gods." She looked from Albus to Snape and back again, a sick feeling entering her stomach. "I suppose we ought to tell him then."

"I suppose it would be best, my dear. But I'm afraid I have business elsewhere. So I'll leave you two to it then."

"WHAT? You mean, I have to tell him myself?!" Now the twinkle was definitely back, brighter then ever. Raven felt momentarily, in light of the circumstances, that she hated that twinkle. That twinkle was going to leave and make her explain to Snape about...everything. Bad twinkle.

"It is only your story to tell. You can make him understand." With a flick of his wrist, the Headmaster summoned a bit more tea for the two of them, and then turned towards the door. "I suggest that you take care of it as soon as possible. After that you should return to your room. I wouldn't mention it, as tomorrow is Saturday. But with your sleeping patterns, Miss Thomas... Well, it might not be in your best interest for the other students to see you exiting Professor Snape's private rooms just after lunch tomorrow. They might get...a funny impression."

"Hey, I don't sleep _that_ late," she muttered. But he was already gone.

She turned to Snape, sitting expectantly, and sighed. Looking down, a sharp pang struck her in the stomach, and she suddenly felt a strange feeling. Something she hadn't felt for years, but which had hit Dove just hours before as well. Humiliation. Regret. Shame.

Sighing heavily, and wiping her hair from her face, she began. She kept her face impassive, but could not raise her eyes to meet his face, afraid of what she might see. Rejection, pity, rage, apathy, disgust. She'd seen it all before, and she had never really been bothered by it. But somehow she knew that if she saw any such thing on his face now, on the face of her Potions Professor, she would do very well to curl up and die.

When she'd finished, nearly an hour later, she cursed herself for not having the courage to look at him. She strained to hear him breathing, moving, shifting in his seat. Anything at all. Even if it was in anger, as long as she knew he had heard her clearly. She started to hear him clear his throat then, and settled herself in, preparing for the onslaught that was sure to come.

"I suppose we all make mistakes."

"Sir?" Raven looked up immediately, her eyes searching his face. _Surely, I heard him wrong_. But the exhausted understanding she saw written across his face blew her away.

"I said, I suppose we all make mistakes." He tightened his grip on the arms of the chair, and Raven was once more afraid of what he would say. "Raven, I have something I should tell you. It occurs to me that I cannot be angry with you for holding back the worst aspects of your past, when I have done just the same. It would be hypocritical of me now not to give you the same consideration you have just shown me." All of the air left Raven's lungs. _Consideration? What's he talking about?_

"Aren't you angry with me?"

"Angry? No. I was angry before, but not with you, though I must have given that impression. I was angry with the circumstances, the choices the Fates have made for you. I was angry _for_ you, not _with_ you. It is unfair that you should ever have been forced into such a situation. Believe me, I know." When she heard the pain in his voice, she understood, she knew what he was going to say. And it hurt her, in a way, that it hurt him to speak of it to her.

"Sir, you don't have to say anything."

"Yes, I do."

"No, really. You don't understand, I-"  
  


"Please, Raven." At the sound of her own name on his lips, she stopped. She couldn't help but obey. She nodded her head and sat silently. 

"Raven, when I was younger, I made some mistakes. I continue to make them to this day. I became confused, and in my search for understanding, I cursed myself forever. My life will never be whole again. Like you and Dove, I lost my father at an early age. My mother as well. I lived with uncles and aunts for years, until they could finally send me off here, to Hogwarts. A desperation to prove myself and ingrain myself into the lives of others led me to Slytherin, and I became immersed in the intrigue and drama of it all. I was accepted for my cunning and intelligence. When I was offered the chance to be a part of something greater, to be right there in the middle of everything, someone to be depended on and looked up to, I jumped at it. It wasn't until months later that I fully understood what I had gotten myself into."

Snape stopped, pausing to catch his breath and regain his confidence. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but it felt right. It dawned on him that he was probably just desperate to tell someone his dirty little secret, that he probably just couldn't bear the burden of it alone any longer. But in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't so. He closed his eyes and pulled up his sleeve, revealing to Raven the scar on his soul. Nobody had ever seen it before except other Death Eaters and Dumbledore himself. He was reluctant to know how she would react, but he felt she should know.

His eyes were still shut tight when he realized he hadn't heard any sharp breaths, any cursing or screaming, any telling thumps from a stunned body hitting the floor. In frustration, he snapped his eyes open and stared at the sight before him. A seventeen-year-old witch gazing at his arm without the slightest hint of fear, anger, or hatred. Any of these things he was sure he could have handled. But her complete lack of response was beyond his comprehension.

"Raven I was..._am_ a Death Eater." He spoke as if to a small child, trying to point out to her the significance of his words, his gesture. She only shrugged.

"No, you aren't. You were, but not anymore. Now you're a spy. There's a difference." Snape's eyes bulged at her directness. Any other man would have spluttered and whined his "don't-you-get-it"s.

"Perhaps you aren't hearing me. I used to brew potions for Voldemort, potions used to torture innocent people. I used to be one of them." He emphasized each word separately, as if it would help her to understand.

"Yeah, and we used to fuck guys for money. Big deal. We're different people now. Well, you are anyway. Apparently, we just aren't getting money anymore." She snorted at her own mad sense of humor and looked at him.

Snape made no movement, no sound. Logic failed him. _Who is this girl...no, this_ woman_ who just side-steps my past? She can't possibly understand the indignity, the humiliation, the anger, the hatred_... then he paused. And it dawned on him that she could understand, albeit not precisely as he did. Raven watched the confusion dancing across his face and decided to make something clear.

"Uhm...'Fess, surely you know by now that I have seen the Dark Mark all along." He had eased slightly at the informal address, but he bristled right back up when she mentioned the Dark Mark again. "Sir, I can see your soul...it never occurred to you that something like this might have left its mark anywhere other than on your arm? I saw it the first day I met you. Of course, I didn't understand exactly what it was at the time, but it was there. And when I did find out...well, I admit I was a bit shocked. But I wasn't angry with you, or disappointed in you, or anything of the sort. It isn't my place, in all of my own sinful glory, to judge anyone else. Besides, you aren't that man anymore, and I know that for a fact, because I can see it on you. It could be that when you first got that mark, it meant something to you, but it would have showed. It would have burned brightly all across your Fabric. It-It's faded over the years. I can barely even see it now. It's like...if you got a nasty cut on your arm, it would look really horrible and very obvious at first. But it would start to heal and fade. And yes, there would always be a little remnant of it on you, but you'd have to really look to see it. And then it would only be a mark of healing rather than the wound it had begun as. See?"

And with that last word, she pulled the fabric slightly away from her neck, down and down, until finally the skin just above her breasts was showing. At first, Snape saw nothing. But she traced around her skin lightly with her fingers, and as he followed them, he noticed slight markings he'd been unaware of before. Small scars and marks began to appear all over. Severus saw them on her arms, her neck, her shoulders, even her face. They were everywhere. Jagged, thin, brutal-looking, marks of every sort. But they were barely there. He had to strain to find them. The only way he could make them out was the slightly shiny note they seemed to give off in the firelight. And he felt himself slowly easing into her simple acceptance.

"But I thought that your sister healed you."

"Of course she did, as best she could. But remember, she can only heal innocent wounds. I earned these." She smiled mischievously, and Snape found his own lips turning up slightly at the sides. Slightly.

"But you hide them beneath your clothes. Because you're ashamed of them." He was digging now, ruthlessly trying to reassure himself that she was right. Hoping beyond anything that she would have a good answer. Wishing he could just let it sink into him instead of fighting it off and pretending he believed it couldn't happen.

"Oh no, not usually. But Malfoy probably wouldn't have appreciated damaged goods. So I was a bit more careful tonight than usual. Strategic Placement of Silky Garments...works wonders. Draws attention away from certain places, and directly towards others. Quite flattering, really." Snape's eyebrows lifted slightly. She was right. He was sure he must have seen one or two marks before, they'd just never registered. He'd always written them off to her hasty hallway duels. So everything she said was true. It fit, it worked.

A moment of complete silence whispered between the two, pausing briefly to pass shadows of understanding. Neither spoke and neither wanted to. They both reveled in the acceptance of one another.

A moment later, the mood was broken. Dove shifted in her sleep, snoring loudly and turning about. She finally rested with her head lying sideways on the pillow and her legs half off the bed. The blankets were wrapped around her tightly, and her nightgown gave off a soft hue. She began to mumble something aloud, and both Raven and Snape got up to move towards her, straining to hear her speak.

"Those things get up to nine feet long," she mumbled near-incoherently, "So if we were standing nine feet apart, _that's_ how long it would be..."

Severus and Raven looked at each other for a moment, strange looks painted across their faces, and Raven mouthed "what the fuck?" to her Potions professor as he stared on in disbelief. Whether at the situation, or Dove's mumblings, or Raven's easy use of profanity in his presence, he didn't know. But a second later, Raven was rolling on the floor laughing, and Snape was struggling to regain his composure. Raven delighted in the sounds of Snape's laughter, and he in hers, but neither mentioned it.

Finally, they both collected themselves, and Raven shoved Dove awake. With one arm around each other, the two girls sleepily thanked their professor and staggered up to their room. Falling into bed, they fell asleep to the delightful visions of Snape's bedroom and its sole occupant.

***

Saturday morning, the girls were still sleeping. Saturday afternoon...still sleeping. Saturday evening...still sleeping. Finally, just before dinner, Drew was rampaging into their room, shouting at the top of his lungs, belting out lyrics from no less than three different Broadway musicals. Dove flinched in her sleep and turned over, burying herself into the bed. But he pounced immediately and pulled off the covers, leaving her shivering and brassed off. Next was Raven, who managed to kick him once as she fell off the bed, yelling almighty curses in the names of any god who sprang to mind. Drew only grinned and chuckled.

Disgruntled, the girls fumbled into some clothes and followed him into the common room. He murmured a quick cleaning spell and then a de-wrinkling charm for the both of them as they entered, and they both sighed their "thank-you"s.

"Don't mention it," he remarked, pulling them along towards the hallways. "I love disturbing your beauty sleep. Favorite pastime of mine."

"Ha. Ha," muttered Dove with little mirth. Raven smiled ferally at her sister's exhausted sarcasm, and allowed his attempted conversation.

"So where were you two last night?" he queried. Dove shut her eyes and tried to think a quick excuse through to Raven, but she'd already been blocked off. She opened her eyes in annoyance and shot a glare at the dark-haired girl, who was already spitting out an answer.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Having sex, and lots of it." Raven dosed the phrase with a good bit of sarcasm and watched for his reaction. He only smiled and shook his head, apparently oblivious to her tricks.

"Aw, sex again?" he mumbled in mock annoyance. "Jesus." Raven's eyes brightened, and she shot forward with some mutterings of complete nonsense, to the amusement of her companions.

"That's it! His name was Jesus! Because I went in there and I was like 'Christ!' and he's like 'What?' Thank the gods you cleared that up for us, me and Dove have been trying to remember the guy's name all night!" Raven spouted, dripping with humor and affection. Dove rolled her eyes, sighing in relief at Drew's easy overlook.

"Dove and I," he corrected and lightly thumped her on the arm. The three of them marched into the Great Hall and sat at the Hufflepuff table across from their friends. Chris and Kello were muttering about a third year Hufflepuff named Luba, and Alex was just sitting silently, listening to their strange conversation. He looked up as the three Slyths sat down, his expression somewhat clouded, but immediately brightened again at the idea of rational conversation.

"Please talk to me about something logical, rational, real. This whole Luba Thing is killing me," he pleaded.

"Well, we were just discussing the sexual tendencies of Jesus Christ, care to give us your take on the subject?" Drew remarked. Alex's face darkened in annoyance. Unfortunately for him, Chris had heard the last bit and immediately zoned in for some Crazy Talk.

"Jesus? Jesus the Duck? I thought he was in Mexico?" he said loudly. Dove rolled her eyes at the reference. Their second year, they had been Transfiguring ducks into picture frames, only Chris' frame had come out all wrong, looking more like a crucifix than anything else. He'd joked about it being a sign that the duck was blessed, and had christened the feathered saint Jesus the Duck. Such things happened with Chris Tofer.

"Now why would Jesus the Duck be in Mexico?" Raven egged on.

"All perfect things go to Mexico," Chris said, shrugging his shoulders with a look that declared Raven's obvious ignorance of religious protocol.

Drew and Raven laughed heartily, while Alex and Dove only looked on with half-bemused faces. Finally, Dove changed the subject. "So what were you talking about before we got here? Some Looby Thing?"

"Luba," Kello corrected. "She's a Hufflepuff Chris ran into about a week ago. She's really quiet and pretty, and Chris thinks it's hilarious, so he started sending her notes. But when she didn't respond, he decided to respond for her and sent himself a few notes 'from Luba'. He reads them out loud when she's around. She gets all red in the face, it's cute. Poor Luba." Kello smiled affectionately as she talked, pointing to a small brown-haired girl a few seats down from them.

"Anyway, Luba just wrote another note, but I don't think I was meant to find it," Chris said in a very loud voice, "Want to hear what it says?" Three Slytherins and one Ravenclaw, as well as a number of Hufflepuffs who'd obviously heard of the little joke, all shook their heads enthusiastically. Chris snatched up a small scrap of parchment that had been lying in front of him, obviously written in his own deranged scrawl, and began to read it out loud in his version of Luba's cute, girly voice.

"My name is Luba and I love Chris Tofer. He is so hot. I'm just too scared to tell him about my burning love for him. Love, Luba (Can't spell my last name.)" When he'd finished, Luba was suitably red-faced, but smiling at the affectionate attention, and everyone was laughing good-naturedly. Chris got up and walked the note over, "returning" it to her, before sitting down again. The group had only just begun to settle down when Headmaster Dumbledore stood to make his announcements. He made a startlingly amusing reference to "love notes at supper", which sent the Hufflepuff table into hysterics, and finally waved his hands spectacularly to summon the food up.

The crew settled down for food, talking about the next two Quidditch games. Dove and Raven would be playing Beaters to Alex's Keeper this week, and then Chris would go up against Alex the week after. Egotism blossomed and joked about itself for the rest of the meal, Jesus the Duck was left in Mexico, and Luba was grateful to eat in quiet.

***

"Do they know what happened? Have they mentioned anything?"

"Not to me, no. But give them time, they'll spill."

"I still can't believe they let themselves do something like that. And with-"

"Just leave it alone. You act like this and you'll know why they didn't say anything before."

"Unbelievable."

"Look, if worse comes to worst, they'll think it was you who saved them. It makes the most sense."

"What about you?"

"Forget about me."

"You know I can't do that."

"Yeah, I know."

A pause infiltrated the secretive conversation. A sly look crept onto both of their faces. Finally, the silence was broken, with a bit more purr in the voice this time.

"So."

"So."

"It seems we're all by ourselves. Nobody else around. Totally secluded. Completely alone."

"Indeed it does. Any ideas what we might do together?"

"I'm getting one."

***

That week, Slytherin had gone up against Ravenclaw on the Quidditch pitch, a fairly decent game, but too close for comfort. In the end, Slytherin barely pulled ahead. Alex was not very happy. He wandered around, scowling and grumbling under his breath, so the twins decided against inviting him to their victory party. With sly smiles, they sauntered into the common room amidst cheers and happy yells. The team was bombarded with offers of pumpkin juice and butterbeer, while chocolate frogs, spiced cakes, sugar quills and more littered the tables. The entire house of Slytherin went crazy for victories.

But down in the dungeons, Severus Snape was not celebrating their minor glory. He was standing by the fireplace in his office, holding the silk-encased knife in his slender hands, debating whether or not to go along with Lucius' little game. He stood there for hours, and that was how the girls found him. They came bearing a few bottles of butterbeer and some leftover snack-cakes. It had occurred to them that Snape did not often engage himself in such frivolous activities, and they felt it was about time he did. At the least, they would try to engage him in some sort of conversation entirely unrelated to school.

Dragging themselves away from the mirth of their common room, they had wandered down towards the dungeons. When they'd found the classroom empty, they had faltered slightly. If he wasn't in his office, they'd be at somewhat of a loss. That would mean that he was either out scouring the castle for lawless Gryffindors, or he was in his rooms. They didn't really have a problem with either, except that they were too lazy to go scouring the castle after him, and they didn't know how to get into his rooms. Mumbling to whatever deity presided over such circumstances, they knocked on his office door.

They were grateful, then, to see light streaming out from underneath. No answer came, but it made no difference to the girls. Deep down, they were really quite rude. Without bothering to announce themselves any further, they simply walked inside. When they saw Snape standing by the fireplace, they made themselves comfortable in the chairs before his desk, popped open a couple of butterbeers, and launched into a tangent. They studiously ignored the shocked reservation and pointed glares he threw at them in sequence.

They jabbered on and about, laughing merrily, as he straightened himself out. He gripped the knife around the silk-harnessed handle and walked towards his desk. He calmly walked around the other side, facing them, and placed his empty palm on the table. The other, he raised above his head, his eyes still on the girls, daring them to notice his actions. When no such acknowledgement came, he sighed. And then brought his upraised arm down at his desk, slamming the knife into the thick, hardy wood. The knife plunged easily in, sinking down until desk met hilt. At this, the girls finally looked up, eyes wide open in disbelief.

"If you don't mind," he growled, "What are you two doing in my office?"

Both girls immediately brightened, shoving bottles and cakes onto his desk, towards him, and murmuring about the party they'd left.

"...Anyways, we thought we'd save you some. How about it?" Dove finished. Snape stared at them both, bewildered. Before, only Dumbledore had ever bumbled on speaking so easily, so carefree, shoving sweets at him regardless of his demeanor. It was strangely unsettling to see these two start to pick up on such habits. But, unbearably aware that they would probably completely disregard any answers to the negative (after all, Albus did it all the time), he sighed and sat down.

"Alright then." Both girls bounced in their seats merrily and fought over what he should have first, finally managing to hand him a beverage and a Kitty Snack that actually meowed.

"Aren't you going to fix that, 'Fess?" Raven asked easily, crumbs stumbling from her mouth. Dove elbowed her in the stomach and gestured for her to wipe her face.

Snape blinked momentarily, fighting to keep the confusion from his face. _Fix what?_ Then his eyes fixed on the blade stuck into his desk. _Oh, yes. That._ He reached forward and pulled the knife out swiftly, setting it on the edge of the desk, careful to keep the silk folded over it. To his surprise, Dove pulled out her wand, pointed it at the table, and muttered "Reparo." He smiled lightly and shook his head.

"It won't work. The cuts that knife makes cannot be repaired," he explained. Dove and Raven both looked at him with curiosity, but neither tried to speak around their mouthfuls of food. Both stared without reservation at the seemingly unmoved mark in the desk. Chewing quickly and swallowing haphazardly a minute later, they both blurted out a few random thoughts.

"Can't be repaired? What kind of knife is it? Can I see it? Where'd you get it? What's it for?" and so on. Snape rolled his eyes in annoyance, but said nothing. When the girls refused to remove their eyes from him, however, he gave in slightly and sighed.

"The knife is one of three. Each has two edges. One edge can cut through anything tangible. The other can cut through one element of the intangible." He continued on a bit, describing in detail the subtle knife, as much as he could recall, and even gave them a bit of history about the humble knife and the beginnings of the time-turner. But when they questioned him about the futile knife, which he bore, he paused. He didn't know why, but he couldn't seem to find the words to explain it to them.

"It doesn't concern you," was all he said.

"Doesn't it though?" replied Dove quietly.

At this, he started slightly. Then, he relaxed. "I suppose it does, at that. Lucius Malfoy has offered to relinquish one of you to me in exchange for this knife."

Dove and Raven both looked up at him, astonished. In a moment, Raven had recovered her wits, and pressed on to lighten the mood.

"Give up one of _us_ for _that_? What exactly can it _do_ anyway?" She smiled lightly and Dove giggled absently. Snape only sneered lightly at them both and looked down.

"Well, you don't have to, you know. We aren't your responsibility. I mean, we _are_, but...well, this is our own situation." Snape glanced up as Dove spoke, surprised at the easy conviction in her voice.

"No. It is my responsibility. You are my responsibility. And I must do what I can. I will give him the knife, but..." He paused. Until that moment, he'd been unsure of what to do. But Dove's simple acceptance of her own dire situation had pushed him over the edge. He had to get one of them out of Malfoy's clutches, regardless of the consequences. He could always get the knife back later. But...

"But you don't know which one of us to trade, right?" Raven asked casually. She shrugged at Snape's raised eyebrow, and snorted lightly. "No worries, leave that to us." The two girls looked at each other, their eyes scathing with intensity, and suddenly Severus realized what was happening. "_I thought to her_." The words rang in his head and his eyes grew suddenly wide.

"You're telepaths."

"Pardon?" Dove had been distracted from their little staring match and blinked at her professor.

"You two...you're telepaths."

"Well...not really, no. We can't read any minds but each other's. So, not telepathy, really. Just a...quirk." Snape's lips turned up slightly at Dove's explanation, but he said nothing else. "Well, anyway, I think we've decided that I should go. He seemed to like me best anyway. Shall I just drop off the knife then?"

Once again, Snape was stunned by the casual attitude the two seemed to take. It was only through years of careful precision of reaction that he kept his face blank. For a moment, he considered that perhaps it wasn't bravery at all, but a lack of understanding. _Perhaps they don't realize the exact extent of the danger they're in_. But it didn't seem the case to him. _They've just put up with so much then...they're jaded_. He sighed, emotions weighing down upon him, but he pushed them away into the furthest recesses of his mind, and forced himself to focus again.

"Yes, perhaps that would be best," he conceded. There was less of a chance that Malfoy would harm his new "acquisition" with his newer "toy". Severus didn't particularly fancy his chances in a room with Malfoy in possession of a knife with the ability to cut through anything.

"Right then, where's the floo powder? Might as well get it over with." Dove raised her eyebrows in parody of Snape's own expression, causing him to sneer.

Raven raised her head to Dove, as if in protest, but said nothing. By the look on her face, Snape assumed that she'd prefer to be the one going herself, if only to keep her sister out of danger. But she kept to herself as Snape murmured a few incantations, lighting a fire and summoning a small tin. He opened the tin to reveal the familiar greenish powder, as Dove reached for the knife in front of him.

"You won't be able to enter the manor directly, as he's long had it disconnected from the network. But you can get as close as the Gleaming Goblet. It's a small pub in Dowerylock, just a couple of miles away. I assume you can manage the rest of the way yourself?"

Dove nodded slightly, toying with the silk around the knife. Poking out just above the silk was a hint of the carved handle. Gazing at it, she thought she recognized wings. Curious, she peeled the silk away softly to see the rest of the picture. Before Snape had time to notice and warn her against it, she had wrapped her hand around the bare carved wood, to turn it over in her hands. But as soon as the thin layer of silk was gone, she froze. Her hand began to tingle with sensation, and she became suddenly dizzy with visions. Strange shadows flitted before her, and still she could not move.

Misreading her sister's anxiety, and eager to take the burden herself, Raven jumped up and walked over to her sister. "Oh, really, Dove. If you're going to be so daft about it...I'll do it myself!" Grabbing the knife from her sister's clenched fist, and reaching for some powder from the tin that her now-stunned professor held out, she threw some into the fireplace and enunciated "The Gleaming Goblet!" Stepping through before they could protest, she concentrated on forming her wings as she flew through the grate. As soon as she landed in the dusty pub, she raced out the front door and took off towards the large manor in the distance.

Back in Professor Snape's office, Dove had finally recovered herself, and was staring at her hands. Burnt into her right palm, the hand she'd held the knife with, was a large circle with lines threading out from it: a figure of the sun. In her left hand was the silk, which meant that Raven was holding the knife bare-handed as well. Yet she didn't seem to have been affected as Dove had. Still staring, Dove walked towards Snape, who was sitting, slightly bewildered, and glaring at the fireplace. When they'd finally sorted out exactly what had happened, they both spoke.

 "Bloody hell."

***


End file.
